


To do the right thing

by Lycoris_aurea



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Enoshima Junko, Enoshima Junko fails, Izuru being an emo teen, Manchild Kamukura Izuru, Mitarai Ryota Grows A Spine, Multi, Nanami Chiaki Lives, Nonbinary Ultimate Imposter, They/Them Pronouns for Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26376403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycoris_aurea/pseuds/Lycoris_aurea
Summary: Ryota knew he couldn’t turn his back on his friends, not after leaving them like that. He had to redeem himself somehow. And it would start with saving Chiaki Nanami. Unfortunately, things quickly spiral out of his control...
Relationships: Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter & Kamukura Izuru, Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter & Mitarai Ryota & Tsumiki Mikan, Hinata Hajime/Nanami Chiaki (past), Kamukura Izuru/Nanami Chiaki, Mitarai Ryota & Everyone, Mitarai Ryota & Kamukura Izuru, Ultimate Imposter/Mitarai Ryota
Comments: 125
Kudos: 92





	1. Agony and determination

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here’s the multichapter version of my sagimita twoshot, Agony and determination + Lazarus. This will include the cut material from the first oneshot and expand upon different characters like Nagito, Izuru, Chiaki and others. Don’t worry, I’m still working on Parallel Island and my other oneshot collections, I just needed to get this out of my head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota decides to make a stand against Junko, and his bravery immediately backfires on him.

Ryota ran madly through the rain, tears streaming down his face. He was a failure, a coward. He’d let his friends go down to their doom. As he tripped and fell into the mud, he took a moment to bury himself in despair.

What had he done?

Now Chiaki was probably going to be killed, all because he couldn’t face Junko Enoshima. An innocent girl who wanted nothing more than to help people.

But...was it really too late?

He couldn’t change the past, but maybe, just maybe, he could change the future.  _ That’s right,  _ he thought.  _ There’s still time. _

Ryota pulled himself up to his feet. He straightened his back, and turned around.

He knew what he had to do.

-

“Chiaki!” Ryota shouted. “There’s an exit this way! Look!”

Chiaki looked frightened but complied. They made their way towards the stairwell he’d found in order to get to her. The door swung open and she managed to take a few hesitant steps outside. He almost followed her, but before he could, the door out abruptly closed. He was trapped. A cloth covered his mouth from behind. He reached out to the exit…

Then everything went black.

-

He came to lying on a cold concrete floor. His head throbbed.

“Oh, how charming! You came to rescue Chiaki after all! I didn’t think you had it in you!”

He looked up and shielded his eyes at the blinding light. A figure loomed above him. 

_ Junko…? _

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that? Although I've gotta admit, you surprised me…so I’ve decided to reward you!” He started to sit up, only to get kicked in the back of the head. A military boot stomped on the back of his neck, causing him to cry out.

“My big sis Mukuro helped me out! We’re gonna give you a  _ special  _ reward! A glorious journey for our knight in shining armor! It’s punishment time!”

The figure that had stomped on him picked him up by the back of his shirt, whirled him around, and threw him into an elevator. As the doors closed, he saw Junko grin and wave...

-

After several minutes, the elevator's slow crawl finally came to a halt. A television screen lowered down from the ceiling, showing that awful bitch’s face. 

“Welcome to the dungeon!” She announced cheerily. “In here, you’ll find traps galore! Bombs, spears, spikes, pits—you name it, we’ve got it! Up and at ‘em, animator boy!”

When he had stumbled into this labyrinth to help Chiaki escape, it never occurred to him that  _ he _ would wind up the victim instead.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid...! _

Ryota slowly rose to his feet, glaring at her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she wanted him to do. He stepped out of the elevator, resigned. Within seconds, a massive boomerang came out of nowhere. It slashed at the back of his jacket as he avoided it, and he broke into a run. 

More monitors lined the walls. Every single one had Junko’s face on them. Ryota was distracted enough by them that he failed to notice a bomb detonating to his right, flinging him down another hallway. He hit the back of his head as he landed and blacked out for a second. Still, he pushed himself back up, ears ringing.

“So brave! Much determination! Such wow!” Junko giggled. “I wonder if seeing you die will cause your classmates to despair as much as if it were their class rep...oh well! If you don’t do the trick, I can always try again! Your brainwashing anime’s the bee’s knees!”

“There’s no way...they don’t even know me!”

“Aww, don’t be so pessimistic! Your  _ beloved _ imposter is looking for you at this very moment!”

The screen switched to a feed of Imposter running through the halls.  _ No! _

The monitor switched back to Junko’s toothy grin. “I wonder what they’ll think once they see that you stupidly threw yourself into danger! Will they hate you? Will they feel betrayed? They were soooooo worried about you, y’know!”

Ryota wobbled back, unable to tear his eyes from the screen. “You...!”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that this was probably the effect of his own anime forcing him to watch her. Given enough suffering, even  _ he _ wasn’t immune.

“Weeeelll...maybe you can make it! I’d love to see it—it would be amazing! The most cowardly failure on the planet, pushing forward despite the odds! Nagito would be so proud!”

At the sound of his classmate’s name, Ryota snapped out of his trance. That’s right, he didn’t know what was happening to the others! 

“What have you done to them?!” 

“Wanna find out? Guess you’ll have to keep going!”

Ryota gritted his teeth. He could do this...he would prove her wrong!

-

Ryota stumbled ahead, desperately trying to avoid the traps. His shirt and jacket were in tatters and stained with blood. His face was swollen after a projectile had smacked him in the cheek. A tear in his pant leg revealed a massive gash. His ribs ached from where wires had electrocuted him. 

“Wow, Ryota! You’re even stronger than I thought! Congrats! You’re halfway through the maze!”

A bar pushed out from one of the walls, tripping him. He cried out as it caught his ankle and the bone snapped. When he landed, his face slammed into the floor and blood immediately started gushing out of his now-broken nose. Despite his body screaming in agony, he managed to pick himself up. He couldn’t stop now...Imposter was looking for him...!

As he limped forward, leaning against the wall for support, a saw popped out and sliced his hand and arm. He looked down at it and shrieked in horror upon realizing that several fingers were gone.

“Aww, our poor widdle animator lost his drawing hand! How sad!” Junko mocked. “Oh well! I guess that’s what you get for trying to be a hero!”

“Fuck you...!” Ryota wheezed, clutching his hand and pushing onward. He caught sight of a massive boulder headed his way and barely managed to limp away before it nearly crushed him, glaring at a nearby screen the whole time. He briefly rested against it, his ruined hand pressing against the monitor.

“Aww, do you give up? You’re gonna let your classmates fall into despair? Are you gonna cry? Come on! Cry! I bet they’ll looove seeing you fail! It’s gonna destroy them!”

“As if...they care about me...” he huffed, blood smearing across the screen. “They’re...stronger...than this...!”

Her malicious laughter echoed throughout the halls. His head was spinning. He had to keep going...if nothing else, then to spite her.

Ryota finally saw the exit, a door marked with a bright red GOAL sign. It was probably a trap, one last hurrah to drive him into despair. But still, if there was a chance...

He swung the door open and marched forward with the confidence of a man who knew he was going to die. Imposter was on the other side, reaching out. 

A spear shot through him. Then more impaled him from below. He didn’t even flinch.

-

As the spears retracted and Ryota’s body fell to the floor with a sickening  _ splat, _ Imposter dashed to his side and sank to their knees.

This wasn’t happening. 

_ This wasn’t happening.  _

They opened their mouth to say something, but no words came out. 

Ryota placed a bloody hand on their cheek.

“Don’t...mourn me...” He whispered hoarsely, blood pouring out of his mouth. “I’m not...worth it.”

_ No. No. No. _

He looked pale, so pale, paler than they’d ever seen him. Even when he was sick, even when he hadn’t slept for days, even when he was starving, he was never this pale.

“Ryota...!” They finally choked out. Their vision became blurry. He just gave them a defeated smile.

“Im...po...ster...”

His hand fell away as his eyes shut for the final time.

Imposter clutched his body and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Ryota is fine. (As anyone who read Lazarus would know.) Next chapter will be getting into Izuru’s head.


	2. Identity crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Izuru saves Ryota’s life, there’s some adjustments to be made. Class 77-B does as well as they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I’m back! So this is the chapter where most of the cut scenes from “Lazarus” ended up. I’m REALLY not satisfied with the transition between some of the scenes, but I really wanted to get it out there before I lost my goddamn mind. I’m probably—DEFINITELY—gonna edit this to make more sense later.

Imposter sat next to Ryota’s bed, watching him intently. It had been two months since the biggest, most atrocious, most despair-inducing incident in hope’s peak’s history. It had been two months since class 77-B, led by Chiaki, had gone down into the bowels of the school, almost leading to their doom. It had been two months since Ryota Mitarai had rushed in to save them. And it had been one month, thirty days, thirteen hours and twenty two minutes since Izuru Kamukura had announced that Ryota Mitarai was stable, comatose and  _ alive, _ thank god, saved from the maws of death by some miracle they couldn’t possibly comprehend.

_ Don’t mourn me. I’m not worth it. _

Imposter remembered his last words to them and blinked back tears. How could he not see how wrong he was?

If he had died, they would have never moved on. As it was, they were already broken. How had they failed him so badly? How had they not seen the signs? If they had known just how lonely and depressed Ryota really was, they would’ve introduced him to the class ages ago.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid… _

“You’re still here.” That was Izuru, sounding as bored as ever. Imposter had gotten used to him quietly appearing out of nowhere.

“Of course I am.”

“You love him.”

“Obviously.” Honestly, there wasn’t any reason to deny it at this point; not to Izuru, who could read them like a book, and certainly not to themself. Maybe on some horrible level, they had wanted to keep Ryota away from everyone else so they didn’t have to share him.

_ And look where that got you, you piece of shit. _

“Do not look so ‘down in the dumps’. I estimate that he will awaken from his vegetative state in less than a month.” Was that slang? Was Izuru using  _ slang? _ Sonia must have been influencing him.

“Why are you here?” Imposter asked after a long silence.

“Because I am bored,” He replied, “And Miaya gave me a list of things I could do.” He held up a piece of scrap paper with neat handwriting on it. Imposter peered at it and noticed that the majority of the items were crossed off, with the exception of one: ‘hanging out with friends’.

They couldn’t help but smile at that. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Hmph. How illogical.” A few seconds passed before he added, “...My apologies. I don’t understand emotions very well...but I am trying my best.”

-

Izuru Kamukura watched Ryota’s comatose form with a vague sense of interest. He had defied his expectations, and forced him to see a different side of himself. He thought he had the animator all figured out—too trusting, too cowardly to fight back. Yet he had gone into the maze to rescue Chiaki, knowing that it was most likely a suicide mission. For the first time, Izuru was forced to question his assumptions.

By all logic, he should have died. It was a miracle the spears had missed so many vitals...no, that wasn’t right. Junko probably had the details of how her victim would walk down to the last inch. The way those spears were placed was deliberate, meant to cause the slowest, most painful, most despair inducing death possible. And yet when he came across Ryota’s pitiful form, the imposter sobbing and begging Izuru to save him, he had the ghost of a smile on his face. He had refused to fall into despair, even in the face of death.

So Izuru felt it was only fair to save his life. He had provided something Junko hadn’t: unpredictability. He looked forward to seeing it again.

Taking one last glance at Ryota and the now-asleep Imposter by his bedside, he turned and walked out.

-

Chiaki visited Ryota in the hospital often. After he had rescued her, she had immediately dashed over to security and informed them of the situation. By the time she had gotten back, it was over and all her friends had escaped.

All except one, that is.

Imposter had stuck to Ryota’s side like glue; Izuru had apparently performed life-saving surgery on him and they refused to leave him. She cried when she learned of his brush with death—and shuddered at the fact that his torture had originally been meant for  _ her. _ Hopefully, with the parade dying down and the steering committee being disposed of, things would settle down and he would wake up. Then she could thank him properly.

“Eyyy, Chiaki! How’s it going!”

There was Kazuichi, grinning and waving. Ever since that incident, her classmates had been treating her like a queen—it was honestly kind of embarrassing. Thankfully, Kazuichi hadn’t started behaving towards her the way he did towards Sonia—she really needed to talk to him about that.

“Oh, hi Kazuichi. And—Izuru?”

Izuru was standing directly behind Kazuichi looking ominous as usual. When Kazuichi noticed, he jumped in the air and screeched. She didn’t miss the tiny smile on Izuru’s face.

“Izuru, it’s rude to scare people like that,” she scolded. “Kazuichi, are you okay?”

“The fuck I am!” He shouted, still trembling. “Where the fuck did you come from?!”

“The steering committee—”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it! You teleported right behind me, man! I swear to god, you’re gonna give me a heart attack someday…”

“Then have one. I have yet to test out my ultimate medic skills. Perhaps it would be less boring.”

“Izuru, that’s going way too far!” She interjected. “As the class rep, it’s my job to make sure  _ all _ my classmates get along, including you!”

After the incident two months ago, Izuru’s existence had been leaked, as well as the fact that the footage of the student council massacre had been doctored to incriminate him. Junko and her sister had been arrested while Ms. Yukizome and Mikan were put into protective custody. Jin Kirigiri, Kazuo Tengan and the steering committee were all fired. A number of ultimate students and staff had quit the academy in disgust. The solidarity between them and the reserve course, combined with Junko being unable to actively spread despair, had caused the parade to lose steam. However, many of her more hardcore followers had doubled down. Juzo Sakakura had his hands full.

In the midst of all this, Izuru had been given the option of leaving the academy to return to his family. He instead came to Chiaki looking for answers, and got one:  _ join our class. _

Which brought things back to the present.

“I don’t see the harm in it,” Izuru replied. It was clear he was enjoying this. As much as he could, anyway.

“Well I sure as hell do! How’d you like it if someone came up behind you and scared you all the time?!”

“That wouldn’t happen. I would detect them. And even if they did, I would be interested, since it would prove that I am not infallible.”

Chiaki just sighed. The steering committee had managed to shove all the skills in the academy’s history into his brain, but somehow failed in giving him a decent sense of empathy. 

“Izuru, please,” She implored. “Just...don’t do this, okay? It’s not nice. I know there are things that people do that make you upset. This a thing that makes Kazuichi upset, so you shouldn’t do it anymore, okay?”

“...very well,” He replied, finally.

As he turned and walked away, Kazuichi folded his arms and sighed. “It’s like talking to a friggin’ baby, man…”

“I heard that.”

“Good!”

-

Izuru decided to pay Junko a visit in her jail cell. She had a wicked grin on her face.

“Oh hi there!” She greeted cheerily. He detected a layer of frustration in her voice so subtle even he almost missed it. “Come to break me out?”

“No. I’m here to kill you.” He pulled out a knife, stolen from Mukuro. She squealed with delight.

“Oh, how delicious! My plans crashing around me, my allies betraying me! This is ecstasy! So exciting!”

“Your despair is boring,” He drawled, “And so are you.”

Before Junko had a chance to react, he plunged the knife straight into her heart, killing her instantly.

After cleaning himself up and planting evidence that Mukuro had broken out and committed the crime, he took a moment to contemplate what she had said. 

_ My allies betraying me! _

Did she really think he was on her side?

It was ridiculous. Insulting, even. He was merely waiting for an answer, and now he had gotten one. Nothing more.

He left without another word.

-

Another day, another class. Imposter probably would’ve had trouble adjusting to not wearing their disguise under even the most ideal conditions, but with Ryota in the hospital and both Ms.Yukizome and Mikan gone, everything was ten times worse. It felt like every other minute they glanced at the door, trying to figure out how to leave.

“Mitarai?”

“What the fuck do you want?!”

There was an incredibly awkward pause as Imposter realized what they had just said. Kizakura was trying to get them to pay attention and they had just snapped in the most embarrassing way possible. The entire class was staring at them. Every single one of them had heard their stupid voice, and was looking at their disgusting face with their dumb beady eyes and their weird greasy hair and their ugly round cheeks and…

_ Stop looking at me! _

They bolted.

-

Imposter’s face burned with shame as they ran towards their dorm room. They knew that Nekomaru would probably try to drag them back to class but they didn’t care; the fact that he hadn’t followed them already was a miracle in itself. Once the door was closed they slumped to the floor.

They were pathetic.

Their room had little in it, especially now that they spent most of their free time at the hospital. All there really was was a bed, a desk, and a large wardrobe where they kept their various clothes. On the desk was a makeup kit and a mannequin head with a wig on it. Or more specifically, a wig that was the color of Ryota’s hair.

Imposter couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. Not after what had happened to him. That damned wig was the reason why their best friend—why the person they  _ loved _ —had almost died. Suddenly, they hated that wig.

They stood up and grabbed the mannequin head before flinging it at the wall. It bounced off and the wig and the head went in two different directions. They didn’t bother to look; instead they collapsed onto the bed and sobbed.

_ What would he think if he saw me like this? _

Ryota was always depending on them. He barely ate or slept without them. If he saw them like this, he’d probably hate them. They were a pathetic wreck of a person—no, that would imply that they  _ were _ a person. They were nothing but a sham. Ryota Mitarai—the  _ real _ Ryota Mitarai—deserved someone who cared about him for  _ him, _ not as a means to an end.

Did they really love him? Or just what he represented?

Imposter decided they had done enough thinking for the time being. They switched off the light, crawled under the covers, and fell asleep.

-

In a warm, dark hospital room, a monitor flickered on.

Ryota Mitarai was about to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooo the comfort will begin! And some proper sagimita and Kamunami scenes instead of Ryota being in a coma while imposter angsts/Chiaki telling Izuru to stop behaving badly. Hooray!


	3. Lazarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota wakes up. Imposter visits him. That’s it, that’s the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the fluffiest chapter yet! If you’ve read the oneshot collection you know that this is the second half of what was originally a two shot. From here on out it’s gonna be all original material.

Ryota was submerged in an endlessly deep sea.

His body felt...strange. Light and heavy at the same time. He had no sense of time. All he knew was that he was tired.

_ Warm. Safe. _

The words drifted into his mind, filling up the emptiness in his head. He was sinking, sinking down, a weight pressing over him—

He jolted awake with a gasp.

Ryota looked around, and found himself in a dark room. His body was covered in a heavy blanket. He craned his neck trying to make out the details.

Oh. A hospital room. Because he had gotten sick. Wait, that wasn’t right. He...he had...

Too exhausted to think, he fell back asleep.

-

Ryota drifted in and out of consciousness for another week, though he seemed disoriented and didn’t stay awake for more than a few minutes. Imposter had already refused to go back to class after the embarrassing incident a few days prior, but after hearing the news they essentially camped out in Ryota’s hospital room. They had to be physically removed by Nekomaru just so they wouldn’t waste away by his side.

“YOU NEED TO EAT, YOU NEED TO SLEEP, YOU NEED TO BATHE, AND YOU NEED TO SHIIIIIIT!!!”

“I can’t leave Ryota’s side!” They wailed as he dragged them away. “If he wakes up again and doesn’t see me, he’s gonna be scaaaared!!”

-

About a day after Imposter had been dragged away kicking and screaming, Ryota woke up for real. 

It was...cold. The air was cold on his skin, a stark contrast to the warm fabric pressing down on his body. He blinked, and turned his head over to the window.

_ Snow? Did a cold front come through all of a sudden? _

A nurse walked into the room and didn’t so much as acknowledge him. It was then he decided to speak up.

“H...hello?” He asked, barely managing a whisper. His voice was hoarse. He felt incredibly weak.

The nurse turned to him. “Oh! You’re awake again! Hello! Would you like me to get some water?”

“Yes.”

She stepped out briefly and returned with a styrofoam cup. He tried to scoot himself up, but couldn’t. As the nurse carefully brought the cup to his lips, he lamented how weak he was. Too weak to get up, too weak to drink water by himself, and to weak to…

To…

_ Oh  _ **_god._ **

All at once, the memories came flooding back. The darkness. The pain. The laughter. The blood. He screamed and screamed.

“Oh no…” Between his pained sobs, he heard a button press and a voice calling for backup. The nurse rushed to his side. “Shh, it’s alright, it’s okay, you’re safe, someone will be coming with some medicine in just a moment…”

By the time another nurse arrived he had quieted down. He offered him a pill, which he numbly accepted. After a few minutes, he stopped crying. The first nurse stayed with him throughout his episode.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A little…”

“Would you like some more water?”

“...yes, please.” 

As she turned away, he decided to try and push himself up again,leveraging his arm to do so. When he did, however, he noticed that his right hand felt a little odd. Looking down at himself, his eyes widened in horror.

His pinky and ring fingers were both completely gone, and the other two were amputated just below the first knuckle. Only his thumb was unscathed. It was a sorry sight.

_ “Aww, our poor widdle animator lost his drawing hand!” _

Ryota started to cry again.

-

Two hours later, Imposter barged into the room unannounced. 

“Ryota!” They cried. “You’re awake!”

“Imposter?!”

They rushed to his side and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Oh  _ god, _ I thought I’d lost you…” they sobbed.

Ryota’s eyes welled up with tears. He returned the hug, as best as he could anyway. “I’m sorry...I really scared you, didn’t I?”

It was weird, being the one to comfort them instead of the other way around. Especially in a situation like this. But still...it made him happy to know they were willing to be open with him like this.

“Are you kidding me?!” Imposter moved back and lightly gripped his shoulders. “What were you thinking?! Running into danger like that is…”

“Exactly what you did,” He remarked dryly, and regretted it instantly. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No...you’re right.” They averted their eyes. “I actually...I shouldn’t have let the others go down there after Peko’s warning...I should’ve used my head. That was stupid of me.”

“Peko’s warning?”

“Mukuro Ikusaba defeated her in combat.”

That didn’t surprise him. She was the ultimate soldier, after all. And she was totally loyal to her sister...which brought up another question he had.

“Junko Enoshima...what happened to her?”

“She’s dead,” Imposter replied. “Mukuro killed her. You’ll never have to worry about her again.”

“Thank god...” he sighed. He normally wouldn’t feel relief at the news of someone’s death, but Junko was far too dangerous to live.

“And Mikan...?”

“...she’s in custody.”

He cringed. The last time he had seen her was when she had tried to molest him...and if Imposter was implying what he thought they were, then she hadn’t gotten better. His anime had been used to hurt people. To hurt  _ her. _

He had to fix this.

“Mikan...I need to make something that can undo what Junko did! I need to save her!”

“That...will have to wait.”

“But…”

“Ryota...you’ve done enough rescuing for now. I can’t…” they wiped their eyes. “I can’t...lose you again.”

They were right, of course. He was down two limbs—during his second meltdown, he had discovered his right leg also had to be amputated just below the knee—and couldn’t even sit up on his own. His drawing hand was ruined. But still...he would find a way. He scooted over and took the imposter's hand with his good one. They looked down, ashamed.

“I’m sorry...your ankle was just...too mangled,” They whispered. “They couldn’t save it. And your hand...”

Ryota shook his head. “I’m alive. I finally figured it out,” he said. “Life...is more important than any anime I could ever create.”

“Ryota…”

The two of them just sat in silence for a minute. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It felt peaceful.

“Do you remember what you said to me?” Imposter asked. “When I...found you.”

“I don’t really remember much of that at all…”

“You said…” Their voice watery, “Not...to mourn you. That you weren’t worth it.”

_ Because I’m not. _

He’d fallen into Junko’s trap so easily. He wanted to live, but...he didn’t deserve their companionship. Not after what he’d done.

“I’m sorry.”

They still wouldn’t look at him.

_ Please,  _ he begged internally,  _ Just look at me one last time. _

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ryota. You saved us...all of us. I couldn’t stand living without you.”

“But I’m the one who put you in danger in the first place!” He protested. “It’s just...how can you...how could you forgive me so easily?”

Imposter took a breath, and finally looked up at him again. Their face was more determined than he’d ever seen before.

“Because I love you.”

Ryota forgot how to breathe. This was...what? What? They...what? This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. He was going to wake up, and Junko was going to yell at him for falling asleep, and Imposter would hate him forever and…

It was real. This was real. It wasn’t a fantasy. This was  _ actually real. _

Their expression turned to one of alarm. 

“I-I’m sorry!” They squawked. “Are you okay?!”

“I...Imposter, I…”

He was crying. Never in his wildest dreams had he entertained the idea that Imposter actually loved him back.

“No it’s…” Ryota took a second to wipe his tears away with his bum arm. “I...I love you too…” he finished stupidly.

The two of them took a few seconds to just look at each other. They smiled at him, and it lit up the world. Ryota...couldn’t help himself when he saw them smile like that.

He kissed them.

Imposter hesitated for a moment and Ryota panicked, before leaning into him. He closed his eyes. This was the happiest moment of his life. After a minute the two of them broke away to look at each other. 

“Yo, Ryota! I heard you woke up!” Kazuichi shouted as he barged in. “I got some designs for...prosthetics…”

He took one look at the two, who were currently bright red.

“Aww, shit...I ruined everything, didn't I?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Imposter responded.

“Uhhh...sorry! Backing up now! Beep! Beep! Beep...beep...beep...”

They both stared as Kazuichi walked backwards out of the room and his voice faded away.

After another minute, they both burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH this chapter was so CUTE and FLUFFY the love confession was so hard to write I was so embarrassed. Hhhhh hopefully next chapter there should be some Kamunami as well.


	4. Self-Examination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru thinks a lot, and Ryota gets a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back on my bullshit once again. I know I said this chapter was gonna be Kamunami, but I couldn’t fit much direct interaction so I just poked around in Izuru’s brain. He’s a complicated guy, so I hope you guys like how I wrote him. If not, too bad.

In the two and a half months since Izuru had saved Ryota Mitarai’s life, much had changed. He had suspected a small chance of Junko Enoshima’s plans failing, but he had never imagined them failing this spectacularly. The parade had almost completely died out save for a few crazies who were easily taken care of by Juzo. The reserve course was getting a complete overhaul courtesy of the newly appointed headmaster Kyosuke Munakata. Izuru had a fair amount of confidence that he could save the school’s tarnished reputation—but he wasn’t nearly as certain as he used to be. He’d been caught off guard already, there was a chance it could happen again.

All thanks to Ryota making a split second decision. Izuru had to thank him for opening up a whole new world of opportunities.

Izuru had also learned of his previous existence as one Hajime Hinata—a boy so horribly insecure in his lack of talent that he was willing to destroy his very existence to acquire it. The sheer irony of the situation would’ve made him cry, if he were more prone to emotional outbursts. But for better or for worse, he was emotionally stunted; despite having the talent to literally read people’s minds and manipulate their behavior, he just couldn’t quite _get_ it.

These shortcomings had been entirely out of Izuru’s radar until now, and it was becoming more and more apparent how severe these issues really were. Joining class 77-B had shown him that much.

All of them, especially Chiaki, had demanded Izuru be assigned to them. It made sense; he had rescued them after all. And if he was being honest, the idea of being near Chiaki made him feel a little bit less apathetic. The others were okay too, he supposed; there was Gundham, who christened him “the long-haired god” and declared him a comrade in the dark arts, Imposter, whose compassion had spurred him into action in the first place and always had a kind thing to say, Nekomaru, who seemed pretty reliable despite his bizarre obsession with excrement, and Kazuichi, whose frantic reactions to everything had become Izuru’s go-to source of entertainment. All of them embraced him with open arms. It was like he was a normal high-school student and not some artificially created monster. He was slowly returning to society…but was there really a place for him there?

He could bring these issues up with Miaya at their next appointment. That was four hours away. For now, lunch was almost over and it was time to return to class.

-

It was a pretty standard morning in the hospital, all things considered. Ryota had been awake for just over a week and was starting to get into a routine. There was the litany of medications he had to choke down, then an hour and a half of grueling physical therapy, then a nap, and then lunch. He was currently eating it when a nurse stepped in.

“Hello, Ryota!” She said. “You have a visitor. Would you like to see them?”

That was odd. What was Imposter doing here so early? After some prodding he had managed to get them to back off and only visit for a couple hours in the afternoon—he still needed his alone time, and truth be told having them fuss over him like that was getting kind of irritating. 

“Sure,” he replied.

Nagito Komaeda stepped in, holding a vase of flowers. “Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Ryota internally groaned. Of all the people to come, it had to be him.

“It’s nice to meet you too...Imposter’s told me a lot about you.”

“Oh, have they? How wonderful! Ha, I’m still getting used to thinking of them as the imposter and not you...I’m so happy to finally talk to the original! You brought hope to us in our darkest hour!”

It was a typical Nagito line, as far as he could tell. He gave the best smile he could muster and sat up a little. “Those flowers...are they for me?” Of course they were. He felt like an idiot.

“Sure are!” Nagito beamed. “Hydrangeas! I picked them myself!”

That was sweet of him. Maybe Ryota was being too harsh. His expression softened. “Thank you.”

“No, thank _you!”_ Nagito beamed. “If it weren’t for you, I might not be standing here today.”

Ryota had gotten the bare bones details on what had almost happened that day in that courtroom, but he was still rather confused. “I don’t follow,” he said.

Nagito placed the vase down on Ryota’s nightstand and his smile dropped. “I can’t speak for the others, but...I think that without your quick thinking, I wouldn’t be alive.”

Ryota hated the fact that he knew exactly what Nagito was talking about. “I’m sorry,” he replied.

“Oh no, don’t get the wrong idea!” Nagito corrected. “I didn’t mean to put the weight of my life on your shoulders. Or the world’s!”

 _You’re doing it right now, though,_ Ryota thought.

“Quite the opposite, in fact,” Nagito continued. “After you rescued Chiaki, she got Kamukura to come back and save everyone. The others contacted security, and managed to capture Junko, Mukuro and Mikan. With them in custody, the school was able to put a stop to Junko’s fiendish despair-spreading plans. You’re a hero.”

_A hero, huh..._

“I was just...making up for my mistake.”

“No, that’s wrong!”

The sudden outburst shocked Ryota, and he jolted a little.

“You weren’t ‘just’ correcting your mistake,” Nagito said. “You could’ve contacted security and gotten the easy way out, but instead, you...you faced the threat head on. You refused to allow despair to prevail, and for that, I have to thank you. You saved us…and maybe even saved me.”

The words sank into Ryota’s mind. Not once had he used the term ‘stepping stone’. It seemed that quite a lot had changed in the two months he’d been out.

“I…I’m glad, then,” Ryota murmured after a few seconds. “That I could help you. And meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine!” Nagito replied cheerfully. “I hope we can attend class together soon! There’s a wonderful new transfer student I’m just dying to introduce to you!”

-

Izuru sat—not sulked, _sat—_ in his room, quiet. Today’s therapy session had been a disaster. He wanted to ask questions about Chiaki Nanami and the rest of the class, and instead of providing answers she simply shot more questions to him. He knew exactly what she intended to make him do—come to some epiphany about his attachment to them somehow. He also realized that she probably thought that he was being “cranky” because Nagito had failed to show up for afternoon class, ruining the perfect attendance record the class had had since Izuru had begun attending. As soon as he noticed that, he decided to end the session early.

It was _not_ a tantrum. Izuru Kamukura didn’t throw tantrums. He was being _assertive,_ as he politely but _firmly_ asked Miaya to leave. She didn’t budge. And he most definitely did _not_ pout as he forcibly pushed her wheelchair out the door, her disappointed sigh echoing in his ears. He was the ultimate hope, not some dumb little kid. His concerns were _rational,_ they were _logical,_ and it wasn’t his fault that she didn’t see that.

Now he was all alone with his thoughts. He still didn’t get why he had become attached to his classmates, despite predicting almost everything they did; he didn’t understand how they didn’t resent him for upstaging their talents, either. It made no sense. They liked him, not just for his talents—well, except for Nagito, who didn’t count—but as a person, even though he had the personality of watery oatmeal.

He thought about Chiaki Nanami and her attachment to him. Or rather, her attachment to Hajime Hinata. Clearly, despite being horribly insecure he’d had _some_ sort of redeeming qualities—he was apparently a people person and had unwittingly charmed her. It irritated Izuru to no end. She even kept calling him Hajime. But why did it bother him so much?

The only thing he could think of was that he, Izuru Kamukura, had grown attached to her. Not just as a remnant of Hajime, but as the person he was now. But why?

When he thought of her, his chest felt tight. She fascinated him in a way no one else could compare. It bothered him a little, but at the same time, it was something he sought to understand. She was kind and patient, but firm, and talking to her felt different than the others.

And then it hit him.

Love. It was Love. He was in love with Chiaki Nanami.

God dammit.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, Izuru has feelings! Whatever shall he do?  
> Probably go harass Kazuichi or something, idk.


	5. Assumptions and analysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru gets a little too wrapped up in his feelings, and winds up getting advice from an unusual source. All the while, something ominous looms...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah remember when I said there would be direct Kamunami scenes this chapter? That didn’t work out. I have plenty of dorky Izuru though. He’s the ultimate nerd.

It had been two days since Izuru had realized that he had romantic feelings for Chiaki. That had been the easy part. Despite his numerous skills, he was still at a loss as for what to actually _do_ about his feelings. This wasn’t what he was built for. He had weekly sessions with Miaya, but under no circumstances would he ever tell her about this. The very idea of her giving suggestions about it made him cringe. He had enough issues with her without adding that into the equation.

On the other side of the room was Chiaki, the very girl he had become infatuated with. She was eating with one hand and playing her gamegirl with another, a feat no one but the ultimate gamer could pull off. This was a typical lunch; all the others usually went out to the cafeteria to eat. They had tried to invite Izuru along, but after several tries they gave up. Thank god for that, since he hated Teruteru. Nowadays, he sat at his desk the entire time, waiting for afternoon class to begin. It wasn’t like he really needed all that much food anyway. At least that’s how he justified it.

He turned away from her, glancing back out the window. Down below, two students were holding hands. He envied them. He’d never gotten a chance to experience positive physical contact, at least not in his current state. Chiaki was fairly nosy and tended to get in others’ faces, but that was endearing to him. He wanted to experience that every day. He imagined holding hands and playing games with her—boring games, sure, but the important thing was her, not the games themselves. He thought of making her smile, and preparing her excellent food every night, and polishing a handmade ring…

He wondered which dress color would match her the best. Pink? Although that might be too much since her hair and eyes were pink as well. Blue would be nice. He liked blue things. Though obviously it would be up to her in the end…

“Yo, earth to Izuru! You still in there?”

He flinched, though it was probably unnoticeable.

“Yes.”

“Oh yeah?” Kazuichi taunted. “Then what was I asking about?”

Izuru was only paying the minimum amount of attention, but he had heard the words “spanner”, “spark plug” and “scared” in rapid succession. That could only mean one thing.

“Mondo Owada wants you to repair his motorcycle.” Kazuichi looked shocked.

“Whoa, for real? I thought you weren’t paying attention at all! You had that weird look you get whenever you talk to Chiaki! You were drooling and everything!”

“I wasn’t drooling,” He denied. His hand was on his chin, and he tilted his head so his hair got in the way of Kazuichi seeing him wipe his mouth.

“Whatever. Anyways, you gotta help me man! The damn thing’s so busted I can’t even get the tires off! And I’m pretty sure the engine is gonna be even worse…”

“Why don’t you simply tell Mondo you can’t fix it?” He asked. “If the crash was that severe, there’s no way he could be in any position to harm you.”

“That’s the thing!” Kazuichi continued. “He didn’t even have a scratch! Something about taking that Makoto kid out for a joyride, and somehow they got out totally unscathed…”

Makoto Naegi, the other ultimate lucky student. Unlike Nagito’s luck, which came in cycles and thus could be fairly predictable, his was completely random. Izuru had taken an interest in him. As far as he could tell, Makoto’s luck made it so he ultimately was okay in the end, but the steps to that point were wildly unpredictable. He assumed that Mondo’s motorcycle crash was just a part of it. Perhaps studying it would help him get a better idea of what was going on.

“…Fine. But don’t expect me to do anything above the bare minimum to assist you.”

“Thanks, man!” Kazuichi cheered. “You know, you may be a giant asshole sometimes, but this stuff totally makes up for it!”

“Excuse me?”

“N-n-nothing!”

-

Izuru stared at the mechanic while he was working. After wrenching apart various pieces of the motorcycle—some of which were actually _fused_ together—he had retired and was now watching Kazuichi work. The thing was so mangled that it was probably beyond repair, but Kazuichi insisted on fixing it anyway. Izuru didn’t know why he bothered.

Currently, he was pounding a segment back into shape using a machine. It was going surprisingly well, all things considered. He paused to place it to the side and then walked closer to Izuru to grab his half-finished meatball sandwich.

Izuru wrinkled his nose. “You’re rank,” he remarked.

“Pffft, whatever dude! I don’t need some weirdo telling me how to live my life. Besides, even if I _did_ bathe I’d just get dirty all over again!”

“That’s the point. Are you not ashamed of yourself when you interact with Sonia?”

“Shut the hell up!” Kazuichi shouted. It seemed Izuru had struck a nerve. This would be entertaining. “What do you know about Miss Sonia, huh? She’s special! Unlike everyone else in this dump, she’s the one person you can never imitate! Cause she’s the ultimate princess, and that’s a hereditary title! No amount of brain surgery will give you that!” He stood up and pointed his wrench skyward. “That’s why Miss Sonia’s the greatest girl in the whoooooole woooorld!”

Personally, he really doubted that. She was certainly very elegant and refined, but Kazuichi was insanely biased. At least he acknowledged that he had a preference for Chiaki. Nobody was perfect, not even her.

Not even him.

-

Izuru had few people to discuss his issue with. Sonia was well-meaning but not well-versed in Japanese customs, not to mention her strange obsession with serial killers; Mahiru was reasonable, but would probably tell him to “man up”, Imposter was another good choice, but they were currently in the middle of an identity crisis, and he’d die before he went to that scumbag Teruteru. As he contemplated, his thoughts drifted to Ryota Mitarai. He was nervous, quiet, and shy, but he had weathered the psychological and physical trauma of his horrific torture remarkably well, and was already in a relationship. Strangely enough, Izuru thought he might be the best option.

With a sigh, he stood up and turned towards his dorm window. It was time to sneak out.

-

While visiting hours were long over, Izuru suspected Ryota was the type who would roam at night given the chance. As he approached the hospital, his predictions were proven correct; Ryota was sitting in a mechanized wheelchair in the cafeteria all alone. Izuru approached him from the shadows.

Ryota narrowed his eyes to see who was there and quietly gasped. Izuru made a shushing symbol. 

“Don’t scream,” he instructed. “I mean no harm.”

Ryota just grimaced.

“Izuru, what the hell?! What are you doing here this late at night?!” He hissed.

Izuru strolled to a nearby table before leaning against it.

“I am…requesting a second opinion on something.”

Ryota just stared at him.

“I…okay? Shoot away, I guess…”

Izuru paused for a moment. Where could he even begin? Asking for his opinions of Chiaki? Like him, Ryota hadn’t personally known her until recently.

“Chiaki Nanami.”

“…huh?”

“I’m asking you about Chiaki Nanami.”

“Um…what about her? She’s nice and stuff, I guess…wait, why are you even asking my opinion about her? Don’t tell me…” Ryota trailed off. He was surprisingly perceptive for someone with his personality. Izuru supposed that it hadn’t been clear because he had spent so little time around others before his near-death experience. Even he couldn’t just pull knowledge out of a vacuum; every experiment required input.

“I think it should be obvious at this point, but let me spell it out for you. I have romantic feelings for her.”

Ryota’s cheeks turned pink, something only Izuru could’ve picked up in the dim light. “Oh! That’s…that’s nice. You think she feels the same way?”

Izuru folded his arms.

“Obviously. I lack experience in this matter, and I felt it would be best to come to you for information I could use for our upcoming relationship.”

“Upcoming? Wait, have you even asked her out yet?”

“I don’t see the point. She will obviously consent to it.”

“Wait, what? You still can’t just…assume things! If someone just decided they were dating me without asking me first that’d be really creepy!”

“Like you and Imposter?”

“W-we talked about that beforehand! I mean, technically I was the one who asked them out, but…”

So Ryota was actually the proactive one. Interesting. Actually, it made sense; Imposter was far too insecure to act on their feelings. Though it was still likely that one of them had confessed first. Probably as a way to release the burden; Izuru could tell based on his observations that both of them thought their feelings were unrequited. He had no such doubt about his and Chiaki’s relationship. He liked her, and she liked him. That was all there was to it.

…Right?

“I suppose you might have a point, but it’s highly unlikely she will reject me. We are very compatible, and I don’t see anything wrong with me at this time that would impede said relationship.”

“Oh my _god,”_ Ryota groaned. “Really? You can’t think of anything at all?”

He couldn’t. Sure he had some difficulty understanding emotions, but Chiaki could handle those. She had before.

“No. Do enlighten me,” He said sarcastically.

“Where do I even begin…first of all, you’re really rude! Like you just busted into the hospital late at night without considering that I might be sleeping or something!”

“I predicted that you would be awake and about, and I was right. It was an opportunity to talk. It worked out in the end.”

“That’s not the point…” Ryota groaned. “That’s another thing you do. You put your feelings over others. Like, did you _really_ need to bust in here at ten pm? Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow afternoon?”

Wait, what? Why would he wait? There was a problem, and he wanted a solution.

“I don’t see the point of that.”

“Be more considerate…seriously…” Ryota moaned, rubbing his temple with his good hand. “You’ve been talking to me about what _you_ want, and how _you_ need solutions…what about Chiaki? And me? And all the others? Are they just tools to you?!”

“I—” Izuru abruptly cut himself off. He thought of Peko and all the psychological trauma that she had been through at the hands of the Kuzuryu clan, teaching her that she existed only to be used. Was he really as bad as them? Would he…would he make Chiaki feel that way?

The idea made Izuru sick to his stomach.

“Hey, uh, are you okay…?”

That was Ryota again. Despite Izuru clearly making him upset, he still cared about him enough to be concerned. Izuru was taken off-guard.

“...Yes.” He responded. “You raised some excellent points…thank you, Ryota.”

“I’m glad I could help…I should really go back to bed now. Just ask me beforehand if you need advice, okay?”

“…I will. Good night.”

Izuru took his leave. Ryota hadn’t disappointed; he now had quite a bit of food for thought.

-

In a dark, empty jail cell, Mukuro seethed.

How dare he? Not only had Izuru killed her sister, he had the fucking _audacity_ to frame it on her. Her, of all people. The one person who would die before allowing any harm to come to Junko. And everyone had bought it hook, line and sinker. Mukuro Ikusaba was a mass murderer, but she would never, ever, _ever_ kill her sister.

She would never forgive them. Any of them.

She stared at the knife she had made out of various stolen items, halfway sharpened. A plan was forming in her head. A plan to bring the monsters that had ruined her down.

They wanted her to be the villain? 

Fine. 

She wouldn’t stay in her sister’s shadow anymore.

It was time to be her own fucking person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, a villain approaches! I love Mukuro, but I feel like the fandom tends to brush aside the fact that she’s a killer that followed her sister’s orders without question. So yeah, she’s gonna be the bad guy in this fic. Sorry.


	6. Embarrassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota thinks about his situation. The class decides to pay him a visit. It goes wrong, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry I took so long with this chapter! It’s been unfair to you guys. I’ve been working on parallel island a lot, but I’m probably gonna take a break from that and focus more on this one for now, since it’s easier to write.

The nightmares had been a thing long before this horrific incident, but they were never as bad as this. And unlike before, there was no Imposter to comfort him when he awoke from his night terrors; the hospital staff forced them out after visiting hours were over. He wanted some time by himself during the day, of course…but he had always looked forward to Imposter coming back every night, and now he had been robbed of that.

So now that he was well enough to get into his chair by himself, he had started to leave his hospital room at night. He didn’t have the manual dexterity to use a normal wheelchair, so Hope’s peak gave him a mechanized one, based off of the one Miaya Gekkogahara had, apparently.

_ Manual dexterity. _ When the doctors had spoken to him, they said that he would likely never use his right hand again. He cried, he screamed, he denied it, but deep down he knew it was true. Junko Enoshima had robbed him of the one thing he had kept on living for. Kazuichi loudly proclaimed that he would make Ryota a prosthesis that was “even better than the original”, but that wasn’t a guarantee. He had to face the real possibility that he would never draw again.

But he was still alive, nonetheless. And…he didn’t want to die. 

So what was there left for him?

_ Imposter. _ There he was, thinking about them again. Missing them. Ever since that day when they kissed, he could barely look them in the eye without blushing. They kind of obsessed over him when he first awoke, and it was annoying. He ended up snapping at them to go away, and they looked at him like a kicked puppy.

He still hadn’t properly apologized for that. Oh sure, he  _ said _ he was sorry, but he’d always believed that actions were louder than words. Or output, in his case. That was why he had been so obsessed with making his anime to begin with.

His right hand twitched. Even thinking about the word “anime” had become a trigger for him. God. And all of it came back to his cowardice. If he had never gone with Junko, the reserve course wouldn’t be rioting, Mikan and Ms.Yukizome wouldn’t have become brainwashed maniacs, his classmates would’ve never been at risk…

And he wouldn’t have been stuck in this lonely hospital. Away from Imposter. It always, always came back to them. They saved him. They came to rescue him. They loved him. He  _ had  _ to repay them somehow. 

It was just a matter of finding out what he was capable of doing.

-

“You want to visit him?” Imposter asked. “Then why are you coming to me about it?”

“Imposter, you know Ryota better than anyone,” Chiaki said. “I don’t wanna surprise him. He doesn’t seem like a very social person, so I don’t wanna overwhelm him…”

“I mean, that’s true, but why don’t you just ask him yourself? You can come to visit him with me this afternoon.”

“Don’t do it, Chiaki!” Kazuichi shouted, appearing out of nowhere. “The last time I went, they were flirting the whole damn time! You’ll just end up being a third wheel!”

Imposter went bright red. “Why would you—”

“Kazuichi, you are severely lacking in social skills,” Izuru remarked, also appearing out of nowhere.

“You’re one to talk!”

Izuru ignored him and turned to the other two.

“I’ve met Ryota previously. I have yet to see him interact with the rest of the class, however. I suppose it might not be as boring.”

“See?” Chiaki said. “Izuru thinks it’s a good idea. If he met everyone at once, it might not be as bad, right?”

Imposter wanted to slap their forehead. Of course he would have selfish motivations. And of course Chiaki would agree with him despite that. It might be nice, but…

“I still don’t get why you’re coming to me about this.”

“But do you think he’ll say yes?”

“…yeah, probably.”

“Then it’s settled!” She replied. “I think I’ll join you when you go visit him after all!”

“Why are you all ignoring me?!” Kazuichi wailed.

-

The four of them (Izuru had silently followed Imposter and Chiaki and they both knew there was no persuading him, and Kazuichi kept rambling about prosthetics) made their way over to the hospital after class. Chiaki was nervous; this would be the first time she met him since he’d awoken. She really wished Izuru and Kazuichi weren’t there; from the troubled look on Imposter’s face as they entered the building, they did too. 

Both of their worries were immediately confirmed when they came up to Ryota’s hospital room and  _ everyone  _ was crammed in there.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, YOU FOUR!” Nekomaru shouted. “I’M GLAD YOU COULD JOIN US.”

“What the hell is this?!” Imposter exclaimed.

“Don’t ask me,” Ryota said. “They just popped out of nowhere five minutes ago!”

“Wait, why?” Chiaki asked. “Were you guys planning something behind our backs?”

“It was Nagito’s idea!” Ibuki replied cheerfully.

“Just what were you thinking?” Izuru asked him, folding his arms.

“Oh, I kinda overheard you guys talking, so I figured I’d round everyone else so you didn’t have too…heh.”

Ryota buried his face in his hand. “I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with this right now…”

“Yeah!” Kazuichi shouted. “We were just gonna go over and ask him if he wanted to see you! Don’t surprise someone in the hospital!”

“I don’t recall us asking you or Izuru to come along, either,” Imposter noted.

“This isn’t the first time Izuru has visited me randomly, though,” Ryota said. “At least this time he did it during visiting hours…”

Everyone in the room turned to him in shock. Imposter looked particularly offended.

“I see no reason to discuss this issue further,” He replied forcefully. “It. Is. Over.”

“Ooh! Ibuki thinks—”

“Just drop it, please!” Ryota cut in. “He’s right. We discussed it; it’s fine. So…do whatever it was you were gonna do when you came in, I guess.”

“Excellent!” Gundham cackled. “Finally, I may learn of your magnificent enchantments! They were even able to trick my evil eye!”

“Uh…thanks?” He said. “Although there’s not really much to say about them, since I can’t…really…make them anymore…”

“Not so fast!” Kazuichi shouted. He pulled out some blueprints from his pocket. “Behold! The animator hand 2.0! Cmon, look! Look!”

Ryota barely managed to catch the papers being flung at his face. 

“An artificial hand, hmm?” Teruteru mused. “I hope you didn’t forget to include the… _ important _ functions.”

“Ibuki made a song for you!” She interrupted. “It’s called, ‘My classmate who was impersonated by another classmate helped save the day’!”

“Uh, thanks—”

“I cannot believe my eyes!” Sonia exclaimed, running over to take his hand in hers. “Novoselic has loved anime for generations, and I am here, meeting the greatest animator of them all!”

Ryota paled. Imposter tried to intervene.

“Wait, that’s—”

“You’ve got a lot of fight in you!” Nekomaru said. “I’ve never seen such determination!”

“Yeah, and speaking of fighting, we should train sometime!” Akane chimed in.

“Um, I…” Ryota was starting to hyperventilate. Imposter rushed to his side.

“Hey, back off!” They said. “Can’t you see he’s—”

“Get lost!” Ryota screamed.  _ “All  _ of you!”

The room went dead silent.

They all filtered out, ashamed.

-

Once the anxiety attack had died down, Ryota pulled the pillow that he’d been screaming into away from his face and threw it towards his legs— _ leg. _ He groaned.

He’d made an ass of himself in front of everyone. Including Imposter. Wonderful.

_ Way to go, Ryota! You just ruined your relationship! Now everybody hates you! _

“Hey.”

Ryota turned. Imposter was standing in the doorway, looking a tad embarrassed.

“Hi,” He replied shyly.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure…” Ryota looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

_ I’m such an idiot… _

“It’s okay,” They replied, stepping in. “I tried to…well, to do  _ something, _ but it obviously didn’t work out.”

“From the looks of it, you didn’t know they were coming,” He replied, turning to look at them. “Honestly, it isn’t your fault either.”

Imposter brought up a chair and sat next to him.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah. I just…wanted to apologize for before…”

They looked at him strangely. “Before? But you just did…”

“No, I mean for, uh, the other week,” Ryota replied. “When I yelled at you. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Ryota,” They replied, gingerly taking his hand in theirs. “You already did that, too. I’m the one who should be sorry. I guess I…I feel like I failed you back then.”

“I know, I just—It isn’t enough for me, either! I feel like I failed  _ you _ —I want to  _ do  _ something! Something more than this…”

_ Something involving my talent,  _ Was the unspoken thought. Imposter seemed to know what he meant.

“And I know,” He continued, “That getting better is part of it. That I saved you guys, but…it’s just not  _ enough… _ god, there I go whining to you again. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like listening to you talk.”

“Huh?”

They both seemed to realize what Imposter had just said at the same time.

“Ah!” They blushed. “I mean—not in a weird way or anything…I just like the sound of your voice—wait, no! That’s not right either!”

Ryota watched Imposter struggle to articulate themself. It was so strange to see someone as calm and collected as them lose composure.

“It’s fine, I—” He cut himself off as he started to laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just—” He was howling with laughter now, tears forming in eyes. Imposter cracked a grin and softly chuckled too. He loved the sound of their laugh. 

After a few minutes their laughter died down, and they were left in a happy silence. Ryota’s cheeks hurt from smiling. 

“I haven’t felt this good…in a long time,” He murmured. “Thank you.”

“Same to you,” They smiled. “Can—can I kiss you? Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” He grinned, and leaned in.

-

Izuru sat alone in his dorm room, one leg propped up as usual. After the embarrassing situation in the hospital room, he felt ashamed of himself. He had been working for months now to use more compassion, as Miaya had instructed him, and yet he had failed at a critical moment. He was supposed to be the ultimate everything, and that included the ultimate counselor. He  _ knew _ Ryota was probably triggered by the word “anime”. And yet he had done nothing but watch.

What did that say about him?

Who…

Who  _ was  _ he?

He started to panic. It felt like the world was spinning. His hands, his hair, his body, his face, who, who,  _ who— _

He stumbled over to a mirror and stared at the stranger in it. He tilted his head, and they tilted their head, too. Huh.

He pressed his hand against it, and they pressed their hand in turn, and that’s when he realized—

_ This is Izuru Kamukura. This is…me. _

Everything fell back into place then. Relief washed over Izuru as he pressed his forehead against the mirror. There was a pressure behind his right eye, probably a sinus headache.

Probably?

No, that couldn’t be right. It was something else. And there was no  _ probably _ when it came to Izuru Kamukura. He started to panic again.

The forgotten identity. The headache. The dulled skills. Something was very, very wrong. 

This wasn’t just an identity crisis. It couldn’t have been Hajime re-emerging either; he would’ve just identified as him for a moment. No, this was something far, far worse; he wasn’t changing into anyone. His mind was degenerating. And his identities, new and old, along with it.

He was turning into  _ nothing. _

He turned and walked over to his desk, taking a seat and booting up his laptop. He opened a file he had created based on data he’d taken from the school’s private servers. It was a virtual reality system meant to provide advanced, specialized therapy for extreme cases of mental illness and trauma. Working title: The Neo World Program.

Izuru knew he had to get it running before he lost his mind forever. And not just for himself…for Hajime, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! All things considered, Izuru was very well behaved this chapter. And man oh man, did I miss focusing on Ryota and Imposter! Welcome back you two!!


	7. Back to school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota is finally discharged from the hospital in time to make some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This time it’s basically all Ryota getting yelled at lol. But still! They mean it in a nice way!

After three weeks of intensive physical and psychological therapy, Ryota had finally been discharged from the hospital. He had strict instructions on what to eat, which medicines to take and when, exercise routines, and so on. He was still stuck in his wheelchair—any potential prosthetics for his hand and leg would be months away, at least—but he was  _ free. _ The exhilaration he felt as he rolled through the door out into the crisp early December morning was like nothing he’d experienced before.

“Congratulations,” Imposter said, smiling. “Will you be going back to the dorms?”

“It’s not like I really have anywhere else to go, so…”

His cheeks turned pink, and not just from the cold. There was the unspoken question of what they were gonna do now that they would be living together. They were… _ dating _ now. Plus with his disability, things would literally have to be rearranged. At least he and Imposter lived on the first floor.

“I’m glad,” They replied, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t tell the rest of the class you were getting discharged, though, since I didn’t want a repeat of last week.”

“Thanks,” He replied. It was really considerate of them. Imposter hadn’t lied; the rest of the class really  _ was _ crazy.

“Hey hey,” Chiaki said, walking up to them.

“Oh! Um, hi Chiaki.” He awkwardly stopped his wheelchair.

“Oh, I, uh, didn’t expect to see you…” Imposter mumbled.

She waved her hand. “Don’t worry. I know for sure this time none of the others are coming. And you don’t have to stop for me; don’t you two have to get a car or something?”

On cue, the three heard a loud honk nearby.

“Get over here already!” Juzo shouted from the van. “I don’t have all day!”

-

“Oof,” Ryota sighed, plopping down on his bed. He never knew that the simple act of getting in and out of a chair could be so exhausting. Imposter and Juzo had helped him, but his atrophied muscles still had a lot of strain. Now it was almost noon, and he was about ready to pass out.

His hand twitched. He lifted it up and stared at it. It was covered by a white glove, and had a rudimentary prosthesis on it—mostly for cosmetic purposes. The doctors had given it to him the previous day. He couldn’t keep hiding it under the blankets anymore, so this was as good as he could get. His leg was far more obvious, but no one could really see the stump if kept his pant leg unrolled. But his fingers…

He lifted up his other hand, his left one, and stared at them both. He flexed his good one, then his bad one; or he attempted to anyway. He could almost feel the missing fingers move, even though the prostheses didn’t. It was weird.

A knock on his door interrupted Ryota’s thoughts.

“Come in,” He said.

Imposter gingerly opened the door. “Hey,” They said. “I brought you some lunch.”

He pushed himself up. “Thanks,” He said. “I needed it. Was is Teruteru’s cooking again?”

“Yeah,” They replied. “I think he caught on that you’re back. He didn’t push it, though.”

_ Thank god,  _ Ryota thought. He’d heard the stories, and from the five minutes he’d interacted with Teruteru in person, he sure lived up to his reputation as a flirt. He didn’t look forward to him learning about his and Imposter’s relationship.

“So should I put it on your desk, or…” They trailed off. The two of them both glanced over to it. His drawing tablet was gone; when he’d asked about it, they said they’d put it away in one of the drawers nearby and motioned to it. They hadn’t wanted to trigger him.

“No thanks, I don’t really feel like getting up right now,” He said.

“I sort of figured. That’s why I got you some finger f…fuck I’m sorry.”

Ryota had heard Imposter swear before but it was a rare phenomenon. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s fine, really,” He replied, smiling. I still have my other hand.”

And he would have to learn how to use it, fast. He’d been given a grace period for his recovery and wouldn’t have to repeat a year, but at the end of the day he was still the ultimate animator, and he still had to produce work to keep that title. There was a tough road ahead of him.

“Okay, hold on. I’ll get you some napkins and we can eat together.”

-

By the next day, Ryota was feeling well enough to go to class. It would be the first time he’d attended since…well, ever, and he was extremely nervous. His disastrous first meeting with his other classmates didn’t help matters; neither did the fact that he’d apparently been the talk of the school for a while back when he was in a coma. But he would have to bite the bullet eventually; refusing to attend was what had led to this disaster in the first place.

“Oh! Hello, Imposter!” Sonia said as they opened the door to the classroom. “And…Ryota?! Is that you?!”

Ryota’s cheeks turned pink. “Hi, guys,” he replied shyly.

“So that fucker finally shows his face,” Fuyuhiko said. His feet were propped up on his desk and he was leaning back in his chair. “Dumbass.”

“Waaaaaah! You stupid otakuuuuu! I can’t believe you saved the day!” Hiyoko wailed. With each voice Ryota sank a little deeper into his chair. 

“Um, guys?” Chiaki asked. “I think we’re overwhelming him. Let’s give him some space, okay? Class hasn’t even started yet…”

“Thanks…” Ryota mumbled, rolling over to the seat imposter pointed at. Apparently it was the only one that wasn’t already claimed. Not that he could really tell; aside from the four people who had spoken to him and Imposter only Peko and Izuru were in the room.

Ryota started hesitantly placing some supplies on his desk; a pencil, a notebook, and an audio recorder. Nothing special, but putting down each object made it feel more and more real. He wasn’t in his dorm room or the hospital anymore; he was in high school again, and he was gonna have to deal with his classmates. Craziness and all.

As if on cue, the door slammed open.

“GOOD MORNING!” Nekomaru boomed. “MY APOLOGIES FOR BEING LATER THAN USUAL! I WAS SPARRING WITH AKANE!”

“I told you, class isn’t for like, twenty more years!” She shouted. “Let me go! I’ll kick your ass, old man!”

Imposter rolled their eyes, clearly used to their antics. “Glad to see you’re as cheerful as usual,” They remarked.

Ryota, meanwhile, was staring at the two, his eyes wide with shock. His ears were still ringing. He thought he’d seen lightning from Nekomaru’s eyes before, but he’d dismissed it as a trick of a light. Now in the classroom he could see that they were very real, emphasized when the team manager turned to face him.

“GAHAHAHAHA!” Nekomaru laughed, loud enough it blew Ryota’s hair back. “RYOTA! WELCOME TO OUR CLASS! I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING YOUR SPIRIT IN ACTION!”

Ryota wasn’t really sure what to say to that. He tried to mutter a “Hello”, but he wasn’t sure whether he’d actually said it or not—he was pretty sure he’d temporarily gone deaf.

“Yo!” Akane greeted, waving her hands in front of his face. “You still in there, buddy? You look like you went and died!”

“I told you not to yell so loudly in class!” Chiaki scolded. “He’s just gotten out of the hospital, and you could’ve made him black out!

Ah. So _that_ was what’d just happened. After a minute, his ears stopped ringing.

“Ryota, are you okay?” Imposter said concernedly. 

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” He replied, dazed.

“Sorry about that,” Nekomaru said. “Just got a little excited seeing the hero of Hope’s Peak.”

“The what?!” Ryota exclaimed.

“The hero of Hope’s Peak!” Nagito chimed in. Apparently, he had showed up at some point while Nekomaru was shouting. “Your bravery single-handedly prevented the academy’s destruction! While your identity was kept a secret from the larger public, as witnesses, we have the luck to know it! Though speculation is rampant on some of the forums…”

“Indeed!” Gundham shouted, approaching him. He was loud, but not nearly as loud as Nekomaru. “Your stand against the she-archdemon shall go down in the texts of the dark library! My twelve zodiac generals shall ensure it!”

“Uh…thanks?” Gundham seemed like a nice guy, in his weird way. Although considering his interactions with Izuru, he wouldn’t peg him as the weirdest…

“It’s true,” Imposter added, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really, really happy that you saved us.”

“Imposter…”

“Oh my  _ god,  _ are they making  _ googly eyes  _ at each other?! Ew!” Hiyoko shouted. “I think I’m gonna barf! Gross!”

“Don’t be childish,” Izuru finally spoke up. Ryota and Imposter had both gone bright scarlet.

“I am sorry for my behavior during our previous meeting!” Sonia cried, grasping Ryota’s hand. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “To upset you on such a level with my reckless words…it is truly unforgivable! From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply apologetic…”

“It’s okay, Sonia,” He reassured her. Practically the entire class was surrounding him at this point, more students joining as they filtered in. He saw a camera flash out of the corner of his eye and turned to find Mahiru holding her camera.

“That was a great photo, you two!” She beamed. “It captured your expressions perfectly!”

Ryota cringed a little. He always hated getting his photo taken. But Mahiru was probably one of the saner members of the class, and he didn’t want to upset her, so he let it slide.

“Miss Sonia looks lovely as usual!” Kazuichi said, peering over Mahiru’s shoulder to look at her camera. She shot him a glare, but he ignored her and faced Ryota. “Yo! Ryota! Nice to see you, man! How’s the wheelchair doing for you? I can make adjustments if you want!”

“You designed this?” He asked. “Wow, that’s really thoughtful of you.”

“Hell yeah!” He shouted back. “I’m going in a new direction, baby! Kazuichi Soda, savior of the sick and weak!”

“You should add speakers to it next!” Ibuki suggested. “That way Ibuki can send Ryota all her cool new tunes on the go!”

“That’ll have to wait,” A voice interrupted. Everyone turned to see Mr. Kizakura, their temporarily returning homeroom teacher. “Class is about to start. Teruteru, I don’t want you to say anything to Ryota, I got complaints. Everyone, let’s take a seat and do attendance.”

As everyone went to their seats, Teruteru defied Mr. Kizakura’s orders and gave Ryota a smile.

“Welcome to the class,” He said, without a hint of flirtation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s that. Teruteru can be a good boy occasionally. Next chapter should have some actual plot in it.


	8. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high among the 77th class, and Mukuro continues to plot her revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this monster of a chapter. I out a lot of scenes into the next one, but it still wound up being enormous. I’ll keep it at a more reasonable length next time.

It had been a week since his first day in class, and Ryota was beginning to get into a routine. He would get up, get mostly dressed, then Imposter would help him finish buttoning up his shirt. Occasionally, if the pain in his hand flared up they would help him with his tie. It was plain green; the old one had been reduced to bloody tatters. It was a personal gift from former headmaster Tengan, too, and the last thing he wanted was to recall that man. Not after what he’d learned.

Usually they’d have breakfast, but this time Imposter had overslept—Ryota suspected they had a nightmare, though they’d never admit it—so he had to grab some leftovers and shove them into his mouth as they rushed out the door. His wheelchair was surprisingly fast, something he’d learned the hard way when he’d accidentally pressed on the joystick too hard and almost slammed into the wall. They both laughed a little as he zoomed towards the campus, Imposter running to keep up.

-

Ryota narrowed his eyes in frustration. The lesson at the front of the board was difficult already; and having to use his non-dominant hand made it even worse. His notes, which were normally impeccably written, were instead sloppy and tilted, with the kanji not fitting into the squares on the sheet of paper. They were so bad he had to struggle just to read them; his mind was split between two problems at once.

“Ryota, can you answer this question?”

Oh god. Everyone was staring at him now. The blood drained from his face. Oh god, he was panicking.

“Seventy,” Izuru said, breaking the silence.

The math teacher sighed. “Izuru, I was asking Ryota, not you. But yes, that is correct.”

“Stop doing that!” Hiyoko yelled.

-

The lunch bell rang. Imposter had been summoned to a meeting with Headmaster Munakata about some legal papers for their identity, and loudly protested as Nekomaru dragged them away. Ryota could sympathize; they were missing out on their two favorite activities: being with him and eating food. That left him by himself for the day. He’d forgotten his lunch money at his dorm—Imposter would kill him if they found out—so all he could do was sit at his desk and sigh.

“Hello, Ryota!” Nagito greeted. “I was just wondering, would you like to eat with us?”

Ryota smiled back. Nagito was a nice guy; a weird guy, for sure, but a nice one nonetheless. Aside from a few comments about how his harrowing experience meant he got to provide hope—which Chiaki immediately tore into him for saying—he’d mostly been polite.

“Oh, uh, sure,” He replied. “I don’t have any lunch, though.”

Fuyuhiko snorted. “Thought you would’ve packed one,” He snarked. “Like a sandwich or something.”

“I think it is best not to shame him,” Peko responded. “After all, there haven’t been many opportunities to go off campus these days.”

It was true. The parade was almost completely extinguished now, but a few extremely determined rioters had snuck into the school and tried to attack a student. Unfortunately, they had picked the Ultimate Martial Artist, so they had been pummeled, but the school had locked down just in case. Only a few individuals had been allowed to leave, and the cafeteria hadn’t been serving finger food lately. Imposter had to sneak out or bribe Teruteru to get food he could eat. Luckily today they were serving sandwiches, so he would’ve been fine, except he  _ forgot his stupid lunch money! _

“Oh, I found a 5000 yen note on the ground!” Nagito said. “I can just buy some for you.”

_ Five thousand?! _

“Hurry up then,” Fuyuhiko scoffed, “I don’t have all day.”

-

The four of them wound up at an isolated table in the cafeteria, close to the entrance but secluded enough that no one would bother them. Peko had offered to grab Ryota lunch, which he’d accepted, thanking her repeatedly. 

“Thanks again,” He repeated as Peko handed him his tray. Her cheeks turned light pink.

“It is no…I mean, you are welcome.”

Fuyuhiko was staring at her the same way he caught Imposter looking at Ryota sometimes, albeit with a frown. He decided not to pursue the topic. 

“So what made you do what you did?” Fuyuhiko asked. “What made you go, ‘Hey, I’m a fuckin’ dumbass, I’m gonna go save the day and shit’?”

Okay,  _ that _ was not the question he had expected to hear out of the gate. “Uh…”

“Didn’t I already tell you all?” Nagito pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, but I wanna hear it from  _ him,  _ without all the hope bullshit.”

“Hope is not BS!” Nagito wailed. Fuyuhiko ignored him. 

“Well?”

“Oh, I uh…I guess I kinda wanted to…fix stuff, I guess?” He floundered. “I just thought, ‘Maybe there’s something I can still do,’ and uh…went back. I didn’t know how bad it was gonna be,” He added at the end.

Fuyuhiko did not look impressed. “So you thought you were gonna run on in and then just run on out? You thought it would be that easy,”

“Yes,” He whimpered.

“And yet you didn’t give up even after you were caught,” Peko intervened.

“Your luck is even more formidable than mine!” Nagito cried. “And your…ahem.”

“Pretty wild for some otaku,” Fuyuhiko admitted.

_ Oh god no. _

“As a matter of fact, I don’t recall ever seeing your work,” Peko mused. “Which is a shame, because from what I’ve heard, it is excellent.”

_ No. No. Please, no. _

“So true!” Nagito added.” “I’ve always admired that shining talent of yours.”

_ “Up and at it,  _ **_animator boy!”_ **

Ryota drew in a sharp breath.

“Stop it,” He hissed. “Just…stop it.”

“Huh?”

“I’m leaving,” He said. “I…need to be alone right now. Sorry.” He rolled away, his food untouched.

“Great job, dumbass,” Fuyuhiko remarked.

-

_ Imposter was stuck alone in a room with podiums. They couldn’t move. They could barely even  _ breathe.  _ Their eyes were glued to the screen, which was filled with static. Then an image appeared—Ryota. He was running. They had to save him! _

_ They managed to wrench free of the strange force holding them in place, and the scene shifted into a hallway. Then, right in front of them, Chiaki appeared, her eyes glowing red. _

_ “Imposter,” She said, “Why didn’t you stop me? You  _ knew  _ it was dangerous, after all…” _

_ “N-no…I didn’t know…!” _

_ They stumbled back and turned to run away, but Miss Yukizome stood in front of them now, her eyes swirling. _

_ “Why didn’t you notice? Why didn’t you see something was wrong?” _

_ “H-how could I have known?!” _

_ They tried to run, but they were frozen again. In front of them was Byakuya Togami. _

_ “You’re a coward,” He snarled. “You had to impersonate people instead of forging an identity of your own. And look where that led you?” _

_ “I never…” _

_ “Imposter.” _

_ They turned around, eyes wide in horror. It was Ryota, bloodied, spears embedded in his body. _

_ “Why didn’t you save me?” _

Imposter snapped their eyes open with a shout. They scrambled out of bed, tugging the sheets off their sweaty body. Only then did they notice the tears running down their face.

They paused. Right, they were at home. In bed. They were safe. Ryota was safe.

_ We’re both safe now…Right? _

They had to make sure. They  _ had _ to make sure. Ryota was out of their sight, and he could’ve choked to death on his own spit, or had an aneurysm, or fallen out of bed or worse and it would be  _ all their fault. _

They cracked open the door to his room, just enough to see his face. His eyes snapped open and he shot up, waving a tablet pen.

“Wh-who’s there?!” He yelled, falling out of bed. “I-I won’t go easy on you!! I have a pen and I’m not afraid to…wait, what?”

Imposter grimaced.

“Sorry…”

“…I think we need to talk,” Ryota said.

-

They awkwardly sat face to face at their little table together. Neither of them had the nerve to look at each other.

After a moment, Ryota spoke up.

“Why did you wake me up?” He asked.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know, but why’d you open the door in the first place?”

Imposter paused. There weren't any words to describe the pain, the absolute  _ terror _ they had felt. They  _ needed _ to see him alive. Present. Safe.

“I was just, um…” They mumbled, “…checking up on you?”

“But why?” He asked. Imposter didn’t reply. “…Have you been  _ watching me sleep?” _

“I…I mean, not like I just stare at you or anything…not for a long time…”

Ryota folded his arms. They looked away, guilty.

“Okay, maybe sometimes…but only once or twice a night at most! And some days I don’t even need to do it! I just…want you to be  _ safe…” _

Ryota’s eyes narrowed. “So this is really a thing?”

“It’s not a  _ thing, _ okay? It’s not a  _ thing!” _

“It is!” He countered. “You were better at first…but now it’s like you’re stalking me! And I hear you yelling in your sleep…you need  _ help,  _ Imposter!”

“No I don’t!” They yelled. “I’m fine! It’s you that needs the help! I have to protect you!

“That doesn’t mean neglecting yourself!” He yelled back. “And you don’t need to be so clingy! Knock it off!”

“How the hell am I supposed to help you if you keep—”

“I need you to  _ back off—” _

“You can’t even  _ dress yourself—” _

_ “Shut up!” _

The room went dead silent.

“Just…shut up, okay?! Go away! I can do this myself!”

“I live here,” They shot back, “And no you can’t.”

“Yes I can!” He shouted, stumbling out of the chair. He had to crawl across the floor, but he still made it to his bedroom and slammed it closed. Imposter watched the whole thing without saying a word.

“Damn idiot,” They mumbled.

-

The next morning, the tension was thick in the air. To his credit, Ryota mostly got up on his own, albeit slower than usual. Imposter waited for him, annoyed. The thought of going out without him briefly entered their mind, but the incredible wave of panic that hit them promptly crushed it. Even if they were mad at him, they couldn’t leave his side. Ever.

By the time Ryota came out it was fifteen minutes past nine, half an hour after class had started. He was wearing a brown sweater instead of his usual shirt and tie. He didn’t even spare so much as a glare at Imposter as he rolled out and that just pissed them off even more.

-

“Good morning, you two!” Sonia beamed once they arrived. It appeared that their teacher was missing. Instead, Nekomaru was standing at the front of the classroom holding a dry erase marker.

“Where’s Mr. Kizakura?” Ryota asked.

“HE’S OUT SIIIICK!” Nekomaru shouted. “THAT’S WHY I DECIDED TO TEACH THE CLASS IN HIS STEAD!”

Judging by the notes on the board, it was a lesson about “doing your best”, whatever that meant. Most of the other classmates were in various states of boredom; Gundham was feeding his hamsters, Akane was eating a turkey leg (on a plate with a fork and knife, that was a first), and Chiaki had fallen asleep. The pair’s arrival seemed like the most exciting thing they’d seen all morning.

“God, can’t you find anything  _ better  _ to talk about?” Hiyoko whined.

“I like it,” Akane said after wiping her mouth with a napkin. (Another first.) “Coach is smart as hell, I don’t get why you don’t appreciate it!”

“What’s there to appreciate?! It’s just lame!”

“IT BUILDS SPIRIIIIIT!”

“Calm down, please,” Mahiru tried to reason. Ryota was kind of grateful for the argument, as it allowed him to roll to his desk while the others—including Imposter—were distracted. He hated being the center of attention, and the previous night’s argument had only enforced that.

He tried very, very hard to avoid looking at Imposter’s seat.

-

Izuru had decided to spend today’s lunch in the new garden. Ryota was in the classroom, stubbornly refusing to eat anything, and though Imposter had left, he could sense their negative energy in there, too. Akane had run off, Teruteru was in the kitchen, Nekomaru was sulking over no one appreciating his lessons—it was unbearable. Though he could easily predict nature, it had gone from being boring to being a relief over the past few weeks of emotional dysregulation. He could shut off his lizard brain and go back to the emotionless void he’d been before.

Unfortunately, this was interrupted when Hiyoko loudly coughed. 

“Um, helloooo, Earth to Big Brother Izuru! Ding ding!”

“What are you doing here,” He drawled.

“I could ask you the same! We always sit here!” She replied. Mahiru was by her side, holding two bento boxes.

“Hi Izuru,” She said. “Mind if we sit here?”

“I don’t care,” He replied.

“Great! You’re way better company than that stinky pig barf was!”

Izuru’s eyebrows shot up. Where had  _ this _ come from?

“Hiyoko, please…” Mahiru said feebly. “You can’t just bring her up out of the blue…”

“Hmph! I was just  _ saying,” _ She waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t even care that much! Anyway, Izuru—”

“Don’t call her that.”

Hiyoko and Mahiru froze as he stood up to his full height.

“What?” Mahiru asked.

“I said,” He repeated, “Don’t call her that.”

Izuru had been reflecting on his classmates for some time, and Mikan had been in his mind the last few days. She had been tormented long before her entrance into Hope’s Peak, and her classmates had continued that habit. But the others had at least attempted to comfort her, and they’d all sworn to treat her better when she returned.

All except one, that is.

“What’s with  _ you?” _ Hiyoko sneered. “Didn’t you see firsthand how crazy she was?”

“She was brainwashed. Which might not have happened if she had not been constantly belittled.”

“Oh my  _ god,  _ really? Are you really gonna drag this up  _ now?” _ She groaned. “Now I’m upset! Come on!”

“Izuru, apologize!” Mahiru scolded.

“No.” He spat. He wasn’t just irritated, he was  _ angry _ now. “You are a bully. A particularly cruel one at that. Your behavior is inexcusable.”

“Ugh, seriously, Izuru!” Mahiru complained. “Why do you have to be like this? She was just trying to hang out!”

“Hang out?” He scoffed. “Hiyoko, you disgust me from the bottom of my heart. And as for  _ you, _ Mahiru, you’re even worse. How can you stand by and watch her torture others?”

“What?!” She gasped. “I’m not—she’s not—”

“Who cares?!” Hiyoko shouted. “That ugly bitch totally deserved it!”

In that moment, Izuru Kamukura saw red. He strolled over in three easy steps, and lifted his hand to strike.

There was a long, drawn-out silence. Hiyoko was so angry she was turning purple, and Mahiru gaped. Izuru lowered his hand and sighed.

“…I believe I was acting rashly, raising my hand at you,” He apologized. “That being said, you  _ are  _ behaving inappropriately. I am astounded that you have been left unchecked for so long…” His eyes shifted to Mahiru, “…And enabled. If you continue to be nasty, you will surely find yourself alone.”

Mahiru still had a shocked expression on her face. “I didn’t…”

“WAAAAAAH! YOU’RE SO MEEEAAAN!” Hiyoko wailed as he walked away.

-

“Everyone sure is cranky these days,” Kazuichi said as he wiped down the side of Mondo’s repaired motorcycle with a rag. “Think it’s something in the air?”

“I do not like that word,” Izuru responded. “‘Cranky’. It sounds…childish.”

He had been watching Kazuichi work on the crumpled mess of a vehicle for the last month, disassembling it, reshaping the parts, reassembling it, and even adding upgrades. Personally, he wouldn’t have bothered, but Kazuichi seemed to  _ enjoy _ doing the pointless, inefficient task, and Miaya had instructed him not to intervene.

“That’s ‘cause it  _ is _ childish,” He said. “I mean—look at Ryota and Imposter! They were practically married and now they aren’t even on speaking terms! Not to mention Hiyoko…she’s been acting even bitchier than usual. Even Mahiru thinks she’s going too far!”

Izuru cringed. He was partially responsible for that. Okay, he was  _ mostly _ responsible for that, but Hiyoko  _ needed _ to be put into place; calling her behavior nasty wasn’t being rude, just plain fact. Miaya had made him and Mahiru confront each other (Hiyoko had refused to come) the other day and they had both awkwardly apologized. He promised not to hurt or threaten anyone, and she agreed to stop being so passive. After that she had made some feeble attempts to stop Hiyoko, causing her to lash out even further. When she turned around and started screaming at Ryota, who hadn’t even been doing anything, Kizakura had snapped and sent her to detention.

“It’s an extinction burst,” He said. “A phenomena in which someone—in this case Hiyoko—stops receiving reinforcement or enabling for a certain behavior and responds by increasing the behavior in intensity.”

Kazuichi paused and contemplated for a moment. “So it’s like a temper tantrum?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting so dickish lately, too?”

Izuru’s brain froze. Where had  _ this _ come from? He’d been somewhat aware that his own behavior might worsen with time due to his degeneration, but he didn’t realize it was getting worse  _ this _ quickly. He had to get the neo world program up and running. Now.

“Oh, uh, shit, I shouldn’t have—”

“You are fine,” Izuru cut him off, “I just came to a realization due to your words…thank you.”

-

Mukuro watched the camera footage in Izuru’s lab from her laptop. She was the ultimate soldier, but she also had plenty of other talents, not to mention connections. Izuru seemed to genuinely not notice that an associate of hers had bugged his room, nor that her supposed “death” had been blatantly faked. He was getting sloppy, and now she knew why.

Izuru sat in his chair, frantically typing something on a computer. He stopped for a moment, stretched, and then pulled out his phone to receive a call.

“Yasuke Matsuda, I presume?”

She knew her next target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, there’s trouble in paradise! Not to mention Mukuro’s plot...


	9. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasuke enters the scene, and Imposter and Ryota have an important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this chapter was a mess to write. But hey, more plot! And more romance! Oh my god finally. This is my first time writing Yasuke, please don’t hurt me.

“Yasuke Matsuda, I presume?”

“Yeah, yeah. You said something about wanting me to help with the neo world program? I’m in.”

Izuru would count his lucky stars later. Yasuke had been surprisingly cooperative after Junko’s death, in part because evidence was uncovered that she was plotting to murder him, and worse, had a hand in his mother’s death. Izuru suspected that this was his way of getting revenge on her.

“Good. I need to discuss some brain mapping…” He took in a breath. His head was throbbing. “…Now.”

“Fuck’s sake, really? It’s two in the morning!”

“I don’t care. Hurry up. I don’t have much time. And why are you…”

Izuru’s sentence trailed off as his mind began to blank out. His phone fell out of his hands and clattered to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” Yasuke shouted on the other end. “Wait, what—”

Izuru was already gone, slipping into unconsciousness as he fell out of his chair to the floor.

-

After hearing Izuru seemingly collapse on the other end of the phone, he grabbed it and sprinted out the door. He’d known going into the Kamukura project that there was a chance of neural degeneration, but seeing it progress this rapidly was another thing entirely. It hit a little too close to home.

_ But maybe it wasn’t just the condition that killed her, _ He thought bitterly.

Swinging open the door to Izuru’s room, he immediately saw him collapsed on the floor, twitching. It was a classic absence seizure. This was bad.

“Don’t you fucking die on me, asshole!” He shouted as he ran over to his body. He had prepared for this and pulled out a syringe, rolling up Izuru’s sleeve and injecting it into his veins. When Izuru’s breathing became more even, he exhaled and pulled out his phone.

As he dialed the hospital number, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. He turned and found a small video camera, stuck on the ceiling and hidden in the shadows.  _ Fucking Mukuro. _

He flipped it off and went back to making the call.

-

Ryota sighed and stretched back in his rolling chair. The last few days had been awful. Sure, he was starting to get accustomed to drawing with his left hand, and was managing to keep a regular sleep schedule while still making work, but at what cost? He and Imposter still couldn’t look each other in the eye. He was worried that he was lapsing back into bad habits again; he’d always used animating as a way to escape dealing with his emotions. He was sick of it.

He pushed the chair away from his desk with his one good leg and towards his bed. His room was pretty small, so using it the wheelchair would’ve been massively inconvenient. He managed to lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

It was Christmas, he realized. He’d gotten Imposter a gift weeks before—a gift card to their favorite restaurant, since his animation wasn’t back up to snuff—and they wouldn’t be able to celebrate it. Not like this. He was tired of ignoring them, and they looked like they’d grown tired of it too. But he didn’t want to just apologize; what Imposter had done was really pushing his boundaries, not to mention feeding into their obsessive behavior. Literally—they’d been gorging themself even more than usual. It was a gross sight.

A thought briefly entered his mind. Should he break up with them? It immediately made his blood run cold. All those years of pining, ending in heartbreak just because of some stupid fight. Were they really just too different to be compatible? Would it end up a footnote like most high school relationships? Oh god, he didn’t want it to be like that. He’d finally found someone to love, and…

There was a light knock on his door. He tilted his head towards it. “Hm?”

“Hey, um,” Imposter asked, “Can I come in?”

_ I can’t avoid them forever. _

“…Sure.”

They walked in, gently closing the door behind them. 

Ryota sat up, unable to look Imposter in the eye. They sat in his chair.

“…Hi,” He said after a minute.

There was a painfully awkward silence. He tried looking at their face, only to find that they were staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry!” They blurted out.

He just stared at them. “Uh…”

“I just…” They looked everywhere but at him, wringing their hands. “Ryota, when you were in that maze, I…I was terrified. I can’t stop thinking about it and…and if I had done something, you would’ve never gotten taken advantage of by Junko…!”

“I’m sorry too,” He responded idiotically.

“…Huh?”

Ryota flushed. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you. And that I kept ignoring you back then, and…I just…” He trailed off for a minute. “Listen, I care about you too, okay? I want you to take care of yourself…you don’t have to always put yourself last…I keep hearing you having nightmares, and it  _ scares _ me!”

By the end of his rant he was in tears. He quickly wiped them away and looked back at Imposter, who was biting their lip.

“Sorry,” He continued, despite the little voice in his head nagging at him to  _ shut the hell up, _ “I’m just…kinda on edge from all this…stuff. And the uh, attention.”

“You’re not the only one,” They admitted. “It’s weird…I wanted an identity for so long, and now I’m getting one.”

_ But didn’t you have one all along? _

To him, the ultimate imposter was, well, Imposter. That was just the name he assigned to their face. They were a caring person, almost too caring, with a love of food and (though he would never admit it out loud) a strikingly attractive face and figure. They admired his art, and went out of their way to help him and others. More than anything, they were a  _ good person. That’s  _ what Imposter was.

But Ryota was also becoming increasingly aware of just how huge their complex about their lack of identity was. It hadn’t really occurred to him until recently, and then finally admitting how stressed they were about it put him at a loss. He had no idea what words would make it better. So he just took a page out of their own book and said, “I’m sorry.”

Another awkward silence. Ryota wanted to melt into the floor. They had both apologized, and now the conversation was going in a new, personal direction, and he was probably supposed to be better at…whatever the hell he was doing, but he’d never encountered anything like this before and he had  _ no idea where to go next. _

“Thanks,” They said, looking up. This was probably his cue to pay attention instead of staring at their face. “It’s weird, all this legal stuff and…ah, there I go complaining again.”

“No, it’s fine!” He said a little too loudly. “I—I want to listen to your feelings, too!”

Imposter looked shocked. They placed a hand over their mouth and looked away, blushing.

“Imposter—” He cut himself off. “Sorry, uh…I keep calling you that, but is it really your name now?”

“…You were the first person to use that like it was my name,” They admitted shyly. Their hand was covering most of their face now, but he could make out a smile. It was endearing.

He attempted to reach out to take their hand, but they were too far away, and he nearly fell over before Imposter jumped up and grabbed his arms.

“Oof—”

“Sorry—”

Imposter managed to place him back on his bed and was now sitting next to him, still gripping his arms.

After a moment of silence they let go of his arms and they both turned red.

“…Thanks…” Ryota mumbled. They kept looking at him for a moment, and then pulled him in for a kiss. He leaned into it, smiling, and threw his arms around their neck.

“Merry Christmas,” He murmured against their lips.

-

By lunch the next day, Ryota and Imposter were back to their normal selves. Kazuichi watched them from the other end of the classroom with an annoyed look on his face. The tension in the air had dissipated, finally, but he didn’t like it one bit. Not when—

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout, darling?” Teruteru purred. Kazuichi nearly jumped out of his seat.

“What the hell?! Quit scaring me like that, man…I thought I could let my guard down now that Izuru’s in the hospital!”

Chiaki glared at him from across the room, but neither of the boys paid her any attention.

“Seriously though, why are you here? Don’t you normally live in the cafeteria?”

“Ah couldn’t stand it no mo!” Teruteru yelled. “All dem happy couples afta crimma las’ evenin gettin lovey-dovey like heyall!”

“I…almost understood that. I think.”

“Dey even come in heeyah!” He added, pointing directly to Ryota and Imposter.

“We can hear you, you know,” Ryota spoke up.

“Teruteru, be quiet,” Chiaki scolded, looking up from her game.

“You heard her,” Kazuichi said. “Quit being so loud and…accent-y. Why’d you gotta come bother  _ me?” _

“‘Cause you’re the only other person who can understand me on this!” He leaned in and hissed. “Those two went from close to angry to close again, and I don’t like it!”

“Who cares,” Kazuichi grumbled. “Don’t involve me in your weird fantasies!”

Teruteru either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. “Could it be…they had a passionate night together?!”

Ryota spat out his drink and started choking on it. Imposter, who was now bright red, glared at Teruteru before turning to try and help him.

“Man, that’s disgusting! Get your mind out of the gutter!” Kazuichi shrieked. 

“Shut up! You were thinking it too!”

At this point Ryota had almost fallen out of his wheelchair, and was still coughing. Imposter was patting his back. “Breathe, breathe!”

“I’ll go get a nurse!” Chiaki said. “And you two! Stop being gross!”

“What?! Don’t lump me in with that horny weirdo!” He protested.

Chiaki would’ve probably apologized under normal circumstances, but she was already out the door. 

-

Izuru returned to consciousness slowly. This process was painfully familiar to him, as he had done it many times. Wake up, forget who he was, panic, run, get caught by some asshole in a lab coat, get sedated and then tied back down to his bed with heavy restraints. He was sick of it. All of it.

So he didn’t even bother to protest this time. Instead, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around, as if his surroundings would be any different. And to his surprise, they  _ were _ different.

He was in a bed with sheets— _ sheets! _ The room he was in was bigger, more open, and it had  _ windows. _

Izuru wasn’t in a lab. He was in an ordinary hospital room. He was  _ free.  _ He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Good to see you’re finally awake, asshole,” An unfamiliar voice said from out of his view.

He flinched. “Yasuke…?”

“The one and only,” He replied once Izuru turned to look at him. “Jesus Christ. You were out for three days. You’re damn lucky I found you when I did. An hour later and you’d be six feet under.”

“I suppose…” Izuru mumbled. There was probably a joke to be made about his Ultimate Luck, but he was honestly too tired to care.

“Anyways,” Yasuke continued, “Why the hell did you wait so long to contact me?”

“I had the situation under control.”

“Control?” He scoffed. “You were  _ foaming at the mouth. _ There were hidden cameras in your room, for God’s sake! When the hell did you get so sloppy?”

“I knew about those,” He replied, rubbing his temple. He was just too busy to care. He had the vague sense that he’d planned for it, but at the moment he was drawing a blank.

“Sure you did,” Yasuke shot back. “Just like you knew that Mukuro Ikusaba is still alive. And that she was the one who planted those.  _ Without you noticing.” _ The last line was filled with contempt.

“Shut up.” He didn’t have time for this. Just being in the same room as the Ultimate Neurologist was taxing enough, and being berated for his failures was just making things worse.

“Fine,” Yasuke said. He stood up. “I’m leaving. But listen to me, Izuru: you can’t do this alone. And neither can I. And even at your lowest you know that. Forget your pride. It’ll be the death of you, just like it almost was for me.” And with that, he turned and walked out the door. Izuru watched him silently.

He turned over and stared out the windows. Yasuke was right. He’d gotten too prideful. Now it wasn’t just him at risk—if Mukuro was involved, then it meant Yasuke would’ve had a target on his back had he not intervened. He had failed, again.

Somehow, it wasn’t as exciting as he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it sad that I had an easier time writing the Izuru scenes than the romance scene? God I was peeking through my hands for that it was so embarrassing.


	10. Decisions, decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru is degenerating rapidly, and needs Ryota’s help. Meanwhile, the animator pays a visit to an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for abandoning you guys for like a month. I’ve been going through some stressful times and will probably go through even more, so updates will probably be slower, but hopefully not THIS slow. Happy holidays!

Izuru sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. He hated hospitals. They reminded him of the sterile medical environment where he had been created and Hajime had been destroyed. Even with Miaya’s advice and his own ultimate therapist skills he couldn’t stop the barrage of flashbacks from overwhelming him. 

The door to his room opened and he turned to see who it was.

“Hi, Izuru,” Chiaki greeted.

“Chiaki. I was expecting you,” He replied, sitting up in his bed. “Come.”

At least he had visitors now.

She pulled up a chair and sat next to him. They remained quiet for a few seconds before she spoke up.

“How are you feeling today?” She asked.

“Horrible,” He drawled. “I’m exhausted, and have forgotten who I am multiple times now.” 

Chiaki looked extremely distressed, and he realized he probably shouldn’t have been so brutally honest.

“…My apologies. I shouldn’t have caused you such concern. There’s nothing you can do.”

“That’s why I hate this so much!” She shouted. A few tears slid down her cheeks. “I want to help you, and I can’t…I hate this!”

Izuru waited for her to finish. It pained him seeing her cry, especially since he was the cause of it.

“There is a tool that can help fix this,” He said. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Chiaki furrowed her eyebrows.

“It’s called The Neo World Program.”

“That virtual reality thing?”

“That’s right. Yasuke, Chihiro and Miaya are all working on it.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the name before, but I never knew what it did,” She said.

“It resets memories to a point before a certain period of time, and allows the patient to create new ones. In my case, it would be prior to the point I became Izuru Kamukura.”

“So it overwrites them?! That’s horrible!” She shouted. “Izuru...why would you do this?”

He stared at her. “Chiaki. You were close to Hajime Hinata, correct?”

“Yeah, but...you’re still my friend, too! I don’t want to erase that!”

_ Friend. _ It hurt, hearing that. But of course, he hadn’t actually confessed to her. He could do it right now.

“…I won’t be erased,” He replied after a moment.

“My memories will be reset for a time…but the goal is to provide mental stability so that I can access them again and merge my two personalities. Hajime Hinata and Izuru Kamukura will become one and the same.”

She took in a sharp breath.  _ Hajime Hinata. _ Izuru knew she still loved him. And he knew he wanted to  _ be  _ him. Not just to win Chiaki’s affection—although that was, deep down, a part of it—but because he felt crushingly incomplete as a person. His boredom wasn’t just due to his skills, but a fundamental hole in his personality.

“…You aren’t just doing this for me, are you…?”

He looked into her eyes. She was uncertain, but he wasn’t.

“Of course not.”

-

Ryota felt nervous coming to this hospital. It was different from the one he’d been in; it was larger, further away, and had far more advanced equipment. He’d stayed in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country.  _ This _ hospital was one of the most prestigious in the whole  _ world. _

“You’re looking rather pale,” Imposter noted, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Anything wrong?”

“Imposter…you said before that Mikan was in this hospital, right?”

They blanched. “Yeah…Miss Yukizome, too. Apparently Yasuke works here during the day, that’s why they and Izuru are staying here. Plus a couple of other Ultimates, too.”

“Like that poor girl that got framed for the bombing thing by Nagito?”

“I didn’t frame her!” Nagito shouted, interrupting their conversation. The whole class had come to the hospital, including him, to visit Izuru, but Nagito was actually waiting on his own appointment, too.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Imposter scolded. “Anyway, I don’t know for sure. I know that Miss Gekkogahara works here, though.”

“Hey, maybe I can see her wheelchair and make improvements!” Kazuichi said.

“Didn’t I just say not to eavesdrop?!”

Ryota chuckled to himself quietly. His bizarre classmates sure knew how to lighten his mood. (Except Hiyoko, but nobody was talking to Hiyoko besides Mahiru anyway.)

Chiaki came into view, smiling. 

“I’m done talking with Izuru, you guys,” She said. “Ryota, he said he wanted to discuss something with you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go up now.

“Should I stay here?” Imposter asked. Ryota turned to them and smiled.

“Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got this.”

-

When Ryota entered the room, it took him a second to find Izuru’s bed. He lay in it, eyes glassy and skin pale. He looked…small.

Izuru Kamukura was many things, but he had never been  _ small. _

“Um, Izuru…?” Ryota asked carefully. “Chiaki said you wanted to see me…?”

Izuru abruptly snapped his head to see him. His eyes widened in recognition.

“Ryota,” He said, still staring creepily. “You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah I am,” He replied awkwardly.

“I’ll cut to the chase, then,” He said. “You understand the details of the Neo World Program, correct?”

“Yeah, kind of,” He replied. “I’ve been briefed, but they didn’t go into very much detail. Just a virtual reality program used to erase trauma. I’m not sure how it works.”

“To put it bluntly, it erases the memories of said trauma in order to allow for the creation of newer, happier ones.”

“What?!” Ryota shouted. “But…overwriting their memories won’t undo the brainwashing! If they don’t even remember how they got brainwashed in the first place, it could make them get worse! And Miss Yukizome’s been straight up lobotomized…it would be like trying to reform Junko!”

Izuru shook his head. “That was the beta version. And Yasuke has already fixed Miss Yukizome’s lobotomy; As much as he can, anyway. She’s still brainwashed, but it isn’t necessarily permanent. That’s where you come in.”

“I don’t get what you mean…that video is still embedded in their minds, memories or not. Sure, you could theoretically keep it at bay, but you’d have to keep them in the simulation forever…”

“Ryota…you said once that you never wanted your anime to be abused like that, yes?” Izuru asked. “If you could make a despair video…you could make a hope video, too. Despite your loss of skills, it’s possible you could at least alleviate some of the effects.”

Izuru was right, of course. Between his dominant hand being ruined and the psychological trauma of his near-death experience, he couldn’t make an anime powerful enough to undo the brainwashing on its own. 

“I see…” He contemplated. “But what about you?! To be honest, I don’t know how I could help you and Hajime with your…problem.”

“That’s more Yasuke’s field of expertise,” Izuru stated. “He’ll be in charge of most of the direct stimulation to the neurons. The same procedure that was used on Miss Yukizome will be used on me to make it easier to acclimate to the program and stimulate my prior self’s memories. Then, once the simulation is complete, our memories will be returned, and your video will be used to ensure it doesn’t result in everyone falling back into despair.”

Ryota grimaced. The idea of having his brain poked by needles to become susceptible to brainwashing was disturbing enough, and the idea of going through it  _ willingly _ made him downright nauseous. Another wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of what happened to Miss Yukizome because of him. But then again, this could be a chance to make some good out of the situation. And if it meant saving Mikan…

“I…I think I need to do something first. Then I’ll get back to you.”

“…Very well.”

-

Ryota and Imposter stood in front of the door to the visiting room. Imposter folded their arms and sighed.

“Ryota, I keep telling you this is a bad idea,” They said. “What are you hoping to gain from this?”

“I just want to…see if she’s okay, is all.”

“She’s not. At all,” They added after a moment. “I visited her right after she was put into custody. It’s bad, Ryota. Really bad.”

“I know, but…” He paused to collect his words. “I need to see for myself.”

“I won’t let you trigger yourself!” Imposter scolded. “What if she gives you a nervous breakdown?!”

“I’ll come out, then,” He replied. “And…you’ll be right here, won’t you?”

“Of course,” They replied automatically.

“Then have faith in me,” He said. “Please.”

Imposter pouted, but didn’t protest. “I still don’t like this,” They grumbled.

“I know. I’ll be out in a few minutes, okay?”

“…okay.”

-

The visiting room looked like it belonged in a prison, not a hospital. There was a pane of what he could only assume was reinforced glass separating him from Mikan, who was sitting on a small chair. He could make out a muscular nurse standing in a corner holding what looked like a syringe.

“Oh,  _ hello!” _ Mikan said in a sultry tone. He flinched, but kept his cool.

“Hi, Mikan. How are you?” He asked.

“Oh, just amazing!” She cried. “I’m reveling in this despair…it’s truly incredible! It’s like my heart is breaking and bringing itself together! Medically impossible, of course, but it’s an apt metaphor, don’t you think?”

“Uh,” Was all he could say.

“In any case, I missed you so much…! I remember how close we were, you were always being so  _ nice, _ asking how I was doing, and treating me like I wasn’t human garbage…”

“…That’s nice,” He said, smiling a little. All at once, her demeanor changed. Her expression turned to one of pure fury.

“And then you went and murdered my beloved!” She screamed. “How dare you!”

“Wait, I didn’t—”

“Shut up, shut up,  _ shut up! _ I’ll never forgive you! Never, ever, ever, ever! Never forgive you! I’ll never forgive you…hee…forgive meeeee…” She trailed off, curling in on herself and clutching her sides.

It was the most disturbing thing he had ever experienced.

Was  _ this _ what he was capable of?

“Mikan,” He whispered, “I promise, I’ll…I’ll fix this. I’ll…save you. Somehow.”

She made eye contact with him, a crazed look in her eyes. A grin slowly spread across her face.

She laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

-

The rest of the class had just shuffled out, and Izuru was exhausted. He understood why Ryota had snapped back then; dealing with all his classmates crammed into one hospital room was a major test to his patience. As if on cue, Ryota came in and rolled directly over to his bed.

“Have you made your decision?” He asked.

Ryota looked at Izuru with more determination than he’d ever seen.

“Yes. I’ll help with the Neo World Program.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I just realized that I ended almost every scene in this chapter with dialogue. Ain’t that funny?


	11. A new start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota celebrates the new year properly for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey a new chapter for the new year! It only took [checks notes] a whole fucking month. My GOD I am so sorry for how long it took as well as the low quality of the chapter, but I wanted it DONE. Please forgive me.

In all the frenzy of the last week, Ryota had nearly forgotten about New Year’s. Teruteru had happily dumped a whole pile of osechi on the class, including soba. It would be enough to keep them all warm throughout the ice-cold night. Currently, he and Imposter were at their table enjoying some of the food.

“Shame we don’t have a kotatsu,” Ryota said. “It’s pretty much the only thing I miss about living at home.”

“I’ve never had one before,” Imposter replied, looking wistfully down at their soup. “Maybe after graduation, we could…”

Ryota’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”

“Ah…” Imposter seemed to register what they had just implied. “Oh—it’s nothing!”

“But—”

“I-i-it’s nothing! I didn’t say anything at all!”

They both paused for a minute, deeply embarrassed. Ryota decided to go back to his soba. He struggled with holding the chopsticks in his left hand, but using them in his right hand was impossible and he was horrible at gripping noodles with a fork. At least there was decent progress being made on his new prosthetic fingers.

“I’m glad to actually spend this New Years with you,” He said. “Y’know, conscious.”

Imposter laughed at that. “I’m glad too. It’s a lot more entertaining being able to talk with you instead of being alone.”

Ryota raised his eyebrows. “Being alone?”

Imposter nodded.

“Everyone was visiting their families last year,” They said. “Except for me…”

Another silence fell over them. Ryota put down his chopsticks and took Imposter’s hand.

“Well…that can change, can’t it?”

Imposter smiled.

“Yeah…” They murmured. “Yeah, it can.”

-

The next morning, Chiaki was in high spirits. She’d received a great deal of New Year’s money from her relatives—enough to buy a new console with money to spare. After a calm evening in her dorms, she awoke refreshed and ready to head out. Security had temporarily been relaxed, and students were allowed to visit a few designated nearby shrines so long as they were accompanied by security. She’d consulted with the rest of her class—except for Izuru, who was hospitalized, and Hiyoko, who was still being a brat—and they’d all agreed to meet at the closest local temple.

The crisp winter air bit into her skin as she approached the stone steps up to the temple. It was a cheerful sight; she spotted main course students and even reserve course students happily chatting with each other. It really showed how much had changed. Chiaki spotted a colorful head of hair amongst the crowd, who turned and made eye contact.

“Yo, Chiaki!” Kazuichi cheerfully waved. “Happy New Year!”

“Hello!” She replied as she approached. Next to Kazuichi were Ryota and Imposter, the latter out without their disguise. She was proud of them for being able to publicly show their real face.

“Hi, Chiaki,” Ryota said. “Are you gonna go up and meet the others?”

“In a few,” She replied. “I’m gonna wait and make sure some of the others show up. Why don’t you go ahead?”

“I can’t,” He said. “As it turns out, the hill where I was gonna go up is really crowded, so I’ll probably wait here for a while.”

“I’m waiting for Miss Sonia!” Kazuichi added.

Before Chiaki could respond, the ground began to shake. It was Nekomaru, grinning from ear to ear.

“GOOD MORNING AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!” He bellowed. Pretty much everyone in the vicinity turned towards them. Chiaki cringed.

“Dude, chill,” Kazuichi remarked. “You wanna kill Ryota? Cause that’s how you do it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Ryota said. “…Mostly.”

“GOOD!” Nekomaru replied. “I OVERHEARD YOUR CONVERSATION, AND I’M HERE TO HELP!”

He promptly lifted Ryota, wheelchair and all, into the air. 

“Waaaaaaagh!”

“Nekomaru, put him down!” Imposter shouted.

“GAHAHAHA! THIS IS NOTHING!” He shouted and carried Ryota away. Imposter frantically chased after them both.

“…Well,” Kazuichi said, “That was weird.”

“Poor Ryota…” Chiaki murmured.

“Happy New Year,” Said a voice from behind her. Kazuichi screamed.

Chiaki whipped around to see who it was. “I-Izuru?! What are you doing out of the hospital?!”

“I escaped,” He replied.

“What the hell, man?!” Kazuichi shrieked with his all-too familiar shocked expression. “You’re killing me!”

“My apologies,” Izuru responded. “I’m working on making my presence more apparent as I approach.” 

Chiaki puffed her cheeks. “I’m glad you apologized, but still…why? You’re way too sick to have just escaped like that…what’s making you do such drastic things?”

“I had help,” He said and thumbed at the car behind him. Yasuke was in the front seat looking annoyed.

“Piss off!” He shouted.

Izuru ignored him. “In any case, the reason is because I wanted to get out and visit my classmates one last time before I go into the Neo World Program. And it’s my birthday. I feel entitled to some enjoyment.”

“Including bullying me, apparently,” Kazuichi grumbled.

“I told you, I’m sorry about that,” Izuru said. He turned to Chiaki. “We should probably go up now.”

“Uh, sure…”

“What am I, some sort of third wheel?!”

-

Nekomaru carried a screaming Ryota all the way up the steps and deposited him gently on the ground. Imposter rushed to his side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Imposter cried. Ryota shouted for a few more seconds before composing himself. 

“I-I-I’m fine…” He whimpered.

They turned to Nekomaru. “Nekomaru! Shame on you!”

“GAHAHAHAHA! Gotta get that blood pumping!” Nekomaru yelled back shamelessly. “Anyway, I gotta go check up on Akane. See you later!”

Neither of them had a chance to reply before he happily stomped off.

“Unbelievable!” Imposter scoffed.

“…he sure is weird,” Ryota said.

Speaking of weird people, he noticed Nagito coming their way, carrying a bunch of bags.

“Hello, you two!” He greeted and then deposited two of the bags on Ryota’s lap.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Oh, you know those discount bags they give out at department stores this time of year? I bought a bunch of them to give out to my classmates! With my luck, it’ll definitely be a good present…it’s the least I can do for all you ultimates.”

Imposter folded their arms. “Nagito, you’re an Ultimate too.”

Nagito looked flabbergasted. “But…but…”

Ryota hesitantly smiled.

“I mean, you said it yourself, right? You used your good luck to get nice stuff for everyone. I’d say you’re using your talent pretty well.”

Nagito grinned from ear to ear, and started cackling maniacally. 

Ryota was alarmed. “Are you…” 

Imposter waved him off. “It’s a thing that he does. He’ll calm down in a minute.”

Indeed, just seconds later, Nagito stopped laughing. He wiped a tear from his eye.

“You really are incredible! You’re so kind…I’m blessed to share a class with you two!”

_ That went surprisingly well, _ Ryota thought.

“In any case, I see a few others over by the altar box, would you care to join me?”

“Sure, sure,” Imposter replied. “Got to give some coins for good luck.”

“Of course,” Nagito said, and took out the thickest wad of cash Ryota had ever seen.

-

At the altar box, several underclassmen were gathered around Yasuhiro Hagakure, the Ultimate Clairvoyant, who had set up a small table with his crystal ball. Imposter rolled their eyes; of course he would do something like that. It was a miracle that he hadn’t gotten kicked out yet.

“Come one, come all, and see your future!” He shouted. “I’ve got tarot cards! I’ve got talismans! I’ve got charms! I’ve got it all!”

“Hiro, you should really stop,” Said Makoto Naegi, the other Ultimate Lucky Student. Nagito squealed with delight as soon as he saw him.

“Wow!” He said, grabbing Makoto’s hands. “It’s a real honor!”

“Oh—Uh—hello,” Makoto replied. Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko and Peko had made their way over to where Hiro was. Fuyuhiko began accosting Hiro immediately.

“Give me back my money!” He screamed.

“Young Master, may I kill him?” Peko asked.

“I thought you’d never—wait, I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Please don’t hurt him!” Makoto shouted.

In the period while the three of them were arguing, Hiro had run away. Fuyuhiko grabbed Peko’s bamboo sword and chased after him, with a wailing Makoto quickly following suit.

“…I suppose I should stop him,” Peko said and walked away.

“They sure are a lively bunch,” Nagito remarked.

“…No kidding,” Ryota added.

They dropped a few coins (or in Nagito’s case, a whole wad of cash) into the deposit box, tugged on the rope, and clapped their hands.

“We should probably head back,” Ryota said. “I think that the walkway thing is nearby…”

“It was good seeing you two!” Nagito smiled and waved. “I’m going to look for the others…I think I saw Gundham nearby!”

“Bye, Nagito,” Imposter replied. They turned and made their way towards the accessible exit at the other part of the shrine.

Unfortunately, said exit was blocked off by another group of students; Nekomaru and Akane were watching as her adopted siblings were attempting to play with Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny.

“Be gentle, kids! This is the guy that’s teaching me all about manners, so you gotta set a good example!”

“Get off of me, you ornery brats!” He shrieked.

The smallest one tugged on his ear while Akane and the oldest kid laughed.

“Aww, it looks like Miki likes you!”

“I don’t like any of  _ them!” _

Ryota glanced over at them. “Imposter, you had a hand in this, didn’t you?”

“…only a little,” They admitted.

“You bastard! I knew you were the one who told her about me! I swear, when I get my hands on you…”

“Byakuya, don’t!” Makoto scolded. Imposter assumed that he’d been able to prevent Hiro’s murder, seeing as he had returned.

“Great timing, Makoto! I’ll leave you with them!” Nekomaru said. He was next to Akane, and turned to Ryota and Imposter. “Looks like you two are ready to go!”

“Wait, what?!” Ryota exclaimed.

Nekomaru once again lifted him into the air.

“Aaaaaahh! Help meeeee!”

“Oh no, not again!”

-

By the time Imposter had finished scolding Nekomaru for his manhandling of Ryota, Izuru and Chiaki had come down the steps. Ryota had noticed him earlier—it was hard to miss that mop of hair—but hadn’t gotten the chance to actually speak with him.

“It seems Nekomaru got too excited again,” Izuru remarked.

“I TOLD YOU, I ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR DOING IT THE SECOND TIME!”

“Wait, you did it twice?!” Chiaki exclaimed. “It was bad enough the first time!”

Ryota watched Nekomaru fall victim to yet another angry tirade. He wasn’t sure whether he felt sorry for him or just amused.

“I have half a mind to join in,” Izuru remarked next to him.

“Ah!” He jolted. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“My bad. I forgot about that…” Izuru looked genuinely embarrassed. It wasn’t surprising; Ryota knew that Izuru’s memory loss was getting worse than he would publicly admit.

“I guess it’s easy to miss…” He mumbled back. “I’m glad you got a chance to hang out with everyone one last time before all that stuff.”

Izuru gave him a curt nod. “I will see you tomorrow,” He said.

“Right.” Ryota watched his back as he turned and walked away. 

_ Tomorrow. _ He had no time for rest; The Neo World Program couldn’t wait. This was his final respite before he dove headfirst into the biggest challenge in his entire life. The weight of it settled over him all at once, and his shoulders slumped. He turned back and made eye contact with Imposter.

That’s right. He wasn’t alone anymore. He could rely on others, and others could rely on him. 

He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally more plot. Also, Akane’s siblings are actually a cameo from the fic “to those who wait” by Jimblebird—go check it out if you like to cry. In any case, this is a pro-Byakuya harassment household. I pray I can get chapters updated more frequently from now on.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gamer Guilt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473912) by [Vandalia1998](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandalia1998/pseuds/Vandalia1998)




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